Konnor Slater.
You gorgeous, drunken idiot.
A knock at the door breaks through our world. We both freeze, narrowing our eyes questioningly at each other.
Something lurches in my chest when his eyes widen in realisation. He jolts up, grabbing his head with a groan.No, no, no. Don’t be Erik. Don’t be?—
“Konnor!” A girl’s voice barks through the door.
My cheeks drain of blood.
“I don’t like waiting!”
“Shit!” On the floor, he scavenges around for a shirt. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
Pembie.
He slides a black shirt over his head before turning to look at me, guilt written across his face. My insides churn, but I act nonchalant with a quick shrug and a feigned smile.
He isn’t buying it.
A sick feeling spreads through me, my lower lip wobbling as I try to keep that feigned smile. I need my head examined. What kind of girl visits a guy she barely knows? Who is involved with someone else?
“Konnor! For God’s sake.” Pembie bashes harder on the door.
He offers me a hand up, but I wave him off dismissively. Getting up, I slowly follow him into the living room. I don’t want to be touched right now. Konnor half-runs, half-stumbles to the door and unlocks it.
As Pembie barges in with a huff, Konnor lowers his head, his eyes meeting his feet. She halts when she sees me standing by the sofa, smoothing my skirt down.
Crossing her arms over her chest, Pembie rocks back on her heels, studying me from head to toe. “What’s going on here then?”
“Blesk was... dropping something off.” Konnor turns, gesturing towards the envelope on his couch.
My eyes sting with the need to cry. He barely looks at her, but he offers me an apologetic glance. And I wish he hadn’t, because I don't want him to see me tearing up.
This was a huge mistake.
She sneers at him, her eyes scanning his body, clearly disgusted by his appearance. By every crease in his clothes. By his messy hair. “You’re drunk again? Why do I put up with this?”
“Yep.” He waves his hand indifferently. “Why do you?”
Her eyes rake over me once more, one corner of her mouth lifting into a smile that says I’m nothing but an inconvenience she’s about to destroy. My stomach drops—I recognize that look from every mean girl who ever decided I was in her way. She hates me.
In one smooth movement, she grabs the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head. She isn’t wearing a bra. I’m so shocked that my mouth drops open. I’m frozen in place, staring at her perfectly sculpted torso, muscular abdomen, tan skin, and shapely breasts, far too perfect to be real, or maybe that’s jealousy speaking.
She tosses the shirt at him. “Well, if you’re drunk, lover, I’ll go on top while you bite my shoulder.” She winks at me. “Just the way he likes.”
I feel sick.
Konnor rubs his temples, growling under his breath. "Fucksake."
She approaches him, her naked toned torso moving seductively, and even though he's shaking his head at her with a scowl, there might be a mixture of anger and lust in his eyes.
"What?" she teases him.
"Put your fucking shirt back on," he orders, training his eyes on hers.
Her hand presses to his cheek, and she whispers something in his ear that seems to physically hurt him.
