I shovel another handful of M&Ms into my face.
They looked really good together. And, yes, I know it’s not real, but also, why wouldn’t he want someone like that? She’s really pretty. My eyes tear up, and I blink, trying to stem the tide of emotions swirling in my chest. I slide one finger under my waistband and finger my scar forcefully. It hurts because I’ve rubbed it raw. Just the pressure alone is starting to help less, and it enrages me. He’s just a stupid hot man. He shouldn’t have such a stranglehold on my mental health.
My eyes refocus on the screen just as the music crescendos, and, as if on cue, my door swings open. I yelp in surprise and M&Ms slosh from the bowl, skittering across the floor as I turn and stare open-mouthed at Tristan and Marcus. To his credit, T doesn’t startle at all. He just looks annoyed that I moved my leg.
They stare at me, and I stare at them.
“Jesus, Jeremy,” Tris says finally, clucking his tongue as he takes in my pathetic state. “Are those Spider-Man pants?”
I push to my feet, then glance down. My whole body flushes with anger and embarrassment. “What the fuck, Tris. Why did you bringhimhere?” Marcus isn’t supposed to see me like this, and it’s mortifying. “How did you even get in?”
“I still have a key,” Marcus mumbles.
I glare at him and give Tris a pointed look.
“What?” Tris protests. “Marion said you went dark, and she wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
I make a mental note to revoke her BFF privileges for a week.
I throw my hands wide. “As you can see, I’m fine.”
Then why is your lower lip trembling?
I spin and grab the remote, turning off that infernal movie music. I hug my bare torso, unable to meet their eyes. “Why did you bring him, Tris?” I ask again.
Tris sighs. “Because he won’t shut the fuck up about you, Jeremy.”
“I wouldn’t say that—” Marcus starts, but Tris shoots him a glare and he closes his mouth.
“He’s been moping around extra grumpy today, which is making him practically intolerable. This morning, I caught him crying in the storage room, blubbering about what a mistake he made, and I just couldn’t take it anymore.”
I raise my eyes and finally take Marcus in. He looks like absolute shit, his eyes tired and his hair unbrushed, which gives me a little thrill of satisfaction.
“I wasnotcrying,” he sputters. “It’s dusty in there.”
Tris pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, you two deserve each other. Can you just make up so we can go? I’m hungry.”
I put my hand on my hip, and Marcus’s gaze drops to my abs. “Make up? Are you kidding? Did he tell you what he did, Tris?”
Tristan purses his lips. “He told me everything.”
I stare at Marcus in shock. He’s never been forthcoming about anything with me, let alone another person, and the idea that he willingly shared so much with Tris hurts. The emotion must show on my face because Marcus pushes past Tris and crowds my space.
He smells woodsy, and his hands are ice-cold as he grips my biceps, and it sends a chill through my whole body.
“C’mon, Starlight,” he murmurs and pushes me toward the bedroom.
“You don’t have to manhandle me,” I huff, but my voice lacks its usual heat.
He closes the door with his foot and turns back to me. I stare up at him miserably, trying really hard not to cry. I’m just so tired, and I feel so defeated.
Marcus doesn’t say anything, but his hand drops to my hip and he pulls gently at the fabric of my waistband, pausing when I flinch. I swallow as he stares at me, and I nod, giving consent.
He inches my pants and underwear down just enough to reveal the scar. It’s pink and angry-looking. He grazes his finger over the raised skin and lets out a relieved sigh.
“You’re as bad as Marion,” I mumble, crossing my arms. He’s seen me naked many times, so why do I feel so vulnerable right now?
“She’s worried about you being alone.” His voice is rough like gravel. “So am I.”
