Page 36 of Scarface


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“It wasn’t you.”

“Got it.” A bored voice informed me.

“It didn’t mean anything,” I added, further digging my own grave.

“No shit!”

He was mocking me, and I was being pathetic. Just great.

“For the record.” A deep voice above me gave me shivers. “I’m straight.”

“I know that!” I growled. “We both are, remember?”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

I swiftly straightened up, hating that I couldn’t see his face.

“Why are you being mean?”

“Because you’re being obnoxious.”

My heart stuttered in my chest before I heard a movement above me, followed by a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said, sounding remorseful. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

I dug my wrists into my eyes to stop myself from screaming as he left the bed. When I finally looked at him, he was sitting on the floor across from me. In the darkness, I could see the contours of his body, but not much more. Shadows obscured his face; only his eyes flickered in the darkness like neon blue lights.

When he spoke, he somehow startled me.

“I didn’t mean what I just said. I was being an ass, and I wanted to hurt you. I apologize.”

I snorted. Still, he'd never apologized to me before, so… yeah, me?

“Are you okay?” he asked me, of all things.

“I’m fine. Confused. Mortified. All of the above.”

Adam chuckled. “Yeah, me too.”

I frowned, not knowing if he was serious. “Really?”

“Sure. I didn’t handle myself well, but I seldom do, right?”

“I’ll take a wild shot,” I said, molesting my cuticle. “But I’m guessing that wasn’t our first kiss.”

“Nope.”

“Second?”

“Yup.”

Fuck.

“I’m… I apologize,” I muttered. “I wasn’t aware—”

“You were drunk, Jordan,” Adam interrupted me. “You were drunk that night, and I was angry earlier, and we are in a fucked-up situation. Don’t beat yourself up over it. I don’t plan to.”

That flicker of hope in my chest? Just died.