“I saw their list. This whole long laundry list of guys she’s been with.” I closed my eyes, remembering how Kyan had suggested he’d tried to use that list to his advantage. A small voice in the back of my head whispered that he’d failed because Elizabeth didn’t like him that way, and if that was true, then maybe she wasn’t randomly collecting bodies. Maybe I’d overreacted.
But the scared kid deep inside me couldn’t believe she’d wanted me with no ulterior motives.
Bas rolled his lips into his mouth, in an expression of impatience I’d seen a hundred times. “You know that list is just for fun. You’re blowing it out of proportion.”
“Are you so stupid?”
“It’s just a game, Evan.”
“Can I giveyousome advice?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t fall for girls who just want to use you.”
He stepped in a little farther. “Can I give you some advice?”
“Shoot.”
“Don’t compound your misery. If you choose to be a martyr over a simple misunderstanding, you’re going to destroy a perfectly good relationship. It was just a game.”
“I’m so tired of realizing I’m alone in a relationship.”
“You could try talking to her.”
“Not a chance.” If I never had to face Elizabeth and my own cowardice again, it would be too soon. I flopped over, turning away from him. “Could you hit the lights on your way out?”
I lay there, considering Bas’s advice and wondering why he was so blasé about being a means to an end. Maybe that was all he wanted. I wished it was that easy.
What felt like moments later, I woke up, lying on top of the covers, still in my clothes from the night before. Sunlight streamed in, and my head pounded. A sense of grief settled on me, but I couldn’t identify the source. Then the events of the night before came into stark focus. What had I done?
I wanted to bury myself under blankets and never show myself again.
The look on Elizabeth’s face before she gave up on me played on repeat, but I still couldn’t shake the fear she’d used me. The belief I couldn’t possibly be good enough—without a catch—had its hooks in deep. Anger felt better than shame, so I shrouded myself in it.
How could I face her again? She must think I was the biggest jerk. Maybe I was.
I rolled out of bed, hoping to sneak out and walk home, or maybe throw myself in front of a bus, but Bas was already puttering around the kitchen, coffee brewing. I crawled onto a stool and dropped my head in my hands, trying to come back to life.
“Morning early bird,” he said, too cheerfully. “How are you feeling?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it.” If I were a good friend, I’d apologize for fucking up his date night or ask him how things were going with Chelsea. But even though I knew I’d been responsible for my actions, I couldn’t help sulk and feel like the victim of a prank.
While the coffee percolated, he pulled up a stool. “I know you were upset last night, but you’re with friends.”
“Friend,” I clarified, my response muffled in my cocoon. I lifted my head to speak clearer. “You know Chelsea is using you, too, right?”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m not sure what that word even means, but I like the way she’s using me.”
“You’re hopeless.” I envied him in his blissful fireproof suit, but I worried it wouldn’t be strong enough to protect him from a detonation.
He dropped from his stool and pulled down a pair of mugs, pouring coffee and milk into each, then sliding one to me on the counter along with a sugar bowl. The other, he carried back to the bedroom where I assumed Chelsea was asleep. Just thinking about her here brought back the shame and self-loathing I’d been trying to bury.
Chelsea emerged, moaning as she sipped the brew. She sniffed dramatically, but nothing was cooking. “What’s the deal with breakfast?”
Bas glanced at me. “Houston, we have a problem.”
Chelsea shoved my shoulder. “Hey, Romeo. What do you have planned today?”
