He lifts a shaking hand and points at Penelope’s door.
“What did you do to her?I’ll kill you for hurting her, you monster.”
Given his position, his threat should ring hollow, but the fury and resolution in his vibrant green eyes pierce through my mania.
I sneer and pull his head higher.He grunts and glares at me.
“I would never hurt her,” I growl.“You, on the other hand—” I lift my fist.
He flinches but jabs his pointed finger toward the door.
A strip of white catches my attention.
He isn’t pointing at the door itself.He’s pointing toward the towel shoved under the jam.
“You’re a fucking liar.You hurt her.She’s only used that godforsaken towel once in the last ten years, and that’s when she met you again, asshole.Get off me before we lose her forever.”
Horror cools my hatred.
“Lose her forever?”I repeat like a dullard.
My arm drops as weakness spears through me.I turn for Penelope’s door, but the idiot wraps both hands around my ankle and jerks my leg toward him.
“If you touch that door, she’ll never speak to you again,” he warns.
I pause with my hand an inch away from the knob.
“She will take her laptop, the emergency bag she keeps on her bottom shelf, her purse off its hook, and leave without a backward glance.You will never, ever see her again,” he says.
The thought fills me with despair.My knuckles burn as I lower my arm to my side.
“How do you know this?”I growl.
“I’ve been her roommate since college.”
For a moment, his words make no sense.I peel my stare away from Penelope’s door and glare at the man kneeling naked at my feet.
Although he’s in good shape, he’s clearly never been to the gym a day in his life, but he isn’t weak.He’s bigger and stronger than Penelope, and if he went to college with her, then he’s probably several years older than her, too.
College.She graduated high school when she was fifteen.He moved in with a fifteen-year-old girl.
I shift my weight and reach for him, ready to slam his head against the wall.
“I’m gay!I never touched her!”he exclaims.
Skepticism and relief flow through me.I curl my fingers into a fist.
“She’s my best friend.I’d be dead if it weren’t for her.”
The worship in his tone is too much.I cock my arm.
“I fucked your personal assistant last weekend!”
I pause.Still braced for a blow, he lifts his hands in the universal sign for surrender and rambles on as though the more words he says, the more likely he’ll survive.
“She chastised me for, like, an entire three minutes, which is an eternity when it’s from her, but then she forgave me and made me choose her clothes for her next day of work, and I swear she’s like my sister.There’s zero sexual chemistry between us.We only moved in together because we needed to escape our crappy home lives and we trusted each other in a way only people who share the same bullies can ever understand, and I—”
I snarl, spin on my heel, and stomp to the kitchen in hopes a glass of water will clear my head.When it doesn’t, I turn on the faucet and splash cold water on my face.
