“Liar.” Her lips barely moved. The challenge made my pulse stutter.
I could smell her. My hands braced on either side of her, trapping her for just a second.
“I don’t want you,” I lied. “Not in any way that’s nice.”
She swallowed. “Good. I’d hate to see you try.”
I let my gaze rake over her. She stiffened. I knew she felt it. My disgust, my need, the thing between us that had never really died, just gotten sicker. It’s been a fucking while too since I’ve been this close to an attractive women, since my ex kicked out.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I hissed, stepping away before I did something irreversible.
But even as I walked off, I could feel her eyes drilling holes in my back.
Back in the lounge, the fire burned low, shadows licking at the walls. Shane and Sabrina cuddled up on the loveseat, oblivious to the war happening six feet away.
Amelia watched the flames and pretended not to notice me watching her.
But she did.
We all pretended so fucking hard.
The movie ended. Sabrina and Shane peeled off to claim the “honeymoon suite.” Their laughter faded down the hall.
Me and Amelia, left in the half-dark.
She stood up, hugging herself, eyes flicking over me with something like hate. Or want. Or both.
I blocked her path on purpose.
She glared. “Move.”
I didn’t.
“What, Langston? You scared?”
She glared harder. “I’ve survived worse.”
“Oh, I know.”
Her jaw trembled, just for a second, before she leaned in close enough for me to smell the heat on herskin, her anger.
“You think I’m scared of you?” she spat, barely holding it together.
I let the words slow, drip like poison.
“You should be.”
But I didn’t touch her. Didn’t even breathe.
She shoved past me, brushing my arm, a quick scrape of nails through my shirt. It lingered.
I chased it, all the way to my room.
I slammed the door. Sat on the edge of the bed. Looked down at my hands. Still shaking.
The darkness pressed in and refused to let go. Somewhere in the house, I heard her door shut. Echoed in my teeth. We were both prisoners of this. We always had been.
THE PAST
