As his jaw muscles work hard, he stares at me over her shoulder. And I don’t know what I expect him to do. For him to push her away? For him to react? No. I mean, he could barely form words a few minutes ago. She's going to seduce him, and that's all there is to it.
I watch her drag her fingers down his chest and grab him between the legs. Her eyes find mine over her shoulder, lips curling with victory.
Bile rises in my throat.
I need to get out of here. Without further hesitation, I rush towards the door. My hands are trembling as I reach for the handle.
"Blesk, wait!”
I don't.
Before I know it, I’m literally running towards the elevator. My stomach is twisting into knots, tears spilling from my eyes. I repeatedly hit the elevator button. Again. Again. I don't know why I'm reacting like this because he owes me nothing. Less than nothing. I'm a complete stranger to him. But something about him… something about him confuses me. Like I was someone else for a moment.
No, it’s just like Erik said. I’ve surrendered to his charm. Heisfull of himself. Knows he’s good. That'd be just like me to allow another man to manipulate me.
The thought comes unbidden.
Angrier now, I hit the button harder and harder even though I know it won’t make a shred of difference.
It finally opens. And when I step inside and turn to face his door, I’m desperate to see Konnor standing in the hallway. Alone. Wanting to talk to me or dragging Pembie out of his apartment by her arm or— The elevator door closes on an empty hallway.
CHAPTER NINE
blesk
Sitting in a corner of The Basement Lounge, I lift my legs up and cross them on the vinyl cushion. To not appear awkward, I pretend to read the textbook I have open in front of me. What I’m really doing is cursing myself out… over and over again. What an idiot. What a naïve, easily led, dimple-faced-boy-obsessed moron I am.
I relive the last few hours’ worth of events. Including the image of Pembie and Konnor and whatever they're doing with each other—or to each other—right now.
I lift my phone, fingers hovering over the buttons. I would usually contact Erik but can’t seem to make my fingers work. My chest squeezes. Why can’t I text him? Knowing literally no one else, I finally text Elise.
Help.
Poor Elise. Day two of knowing Blesk Bellamy and nothing is ever peachy. I should warn her before things get crazy. My phone hums.
“Where are you?” Elise asks the moment I pick up and press the handset to my ear. “Your locator is showing it’s still on campus. Near the bookshop.”
I try not to sound sad when I say, “I think it’s called Th-the Basement Lounge.”
The Basement Lounge can only be accessed through an underground tunnel between the library and the bookshop, and that makes me feel safe, though I don’t know why. A dark space that is all my own. Hidden. Booths and couches line the room’s perimeter while standard tables are scattered throughout the middle. The low ceiling appears to be carved from real rock, and the carpet is fire-engine red. Busier than I'd expect for a Wednesday lunch, too.
“What did that A-hole do?” she asks breathlessly. Her voice comes in at different volumes. She’s jogging, I think.
“Nothing,” I grumble, flipping a page in my book, then another, and another, using the paper in an angry way that isn’t fair given I love paper and books. And now I feel guilty for being mean to the book.
“Lie to Elise not,” Elise pants in a Yoda voice.
I chuckle, shutting my emotional support textbook. “His girlfriend showed up and gave us a strip tease.”
“What? You’re kidding.”
“I wish I was,” I drawl.
“Oh, well, that soundsinteresting. You should have called me. I have a whole jar of ones I’ve been dying to spend.”
“My apologies.” I lean back with a sigh, breathing a little easier. “How thoughtless of me.”
“I hate ones,” she says in mock anger. “They’re so obnoxious. The weakest dollar but physically bigger than the twos. Ones are bullies.”
