The look I give Mia says, “You told me he wouldn’t be here.”
“I didn’t know, I promise,” she whispers as I grip the armrest with whitening knuckles.
He’s everywhere. I can’t even have an evening with my friends without him crashing.
Dressed in black combat pants and a hoodie, he saunters across the room as though he owns the place.
“Pizza,” Samson exclaims. “Hell yes!”
Elbow on the armrest, I rub my lips. Why the fuck is he here? Allie usually resorts to bribery to get him to show up to spend time with her friends.
As Mia plays with the wayward strands of hair at my nape, I try my hardest not to look in their direction, but it’s proving harder than breathing underwater or surviving a fall from the Empire State Building.
Cole drops onto the couch and pulls Allie onto his lap, his smile dark and devilish.
“Fries, anyone?” Samson asks around a mouthful, holding out the container.
“Just…help yourself,” Tiago says, and Samson dives in, oblivious to the sarcasm in Tiago’s voice.
“I promise, I didn’t know,” Mia whispers again when I show no sign of relaxing my tense shoulders.
I’ll wake up with a sore neck at this rate.
“Why are you here?” I bite out, directing the question at the asshole across the room who stops sucking his girlfriend’s face.
It takes him forever to slide his eyes in my direction, and when he finally does, I swear there’s a glint of something wicked in those dark depths. His nostrils flare, and then he smirks, but it lacks humor. It’s cold, just like his fucking heart. “Dad wants us to bond, remember? Thought I’d make an effort.”
“He’s not your dad.” I’m so fucking triggered that it’s difficult to breathe with him in the room. His presence sucks out the oxygen as his eyes burn brighter.
“Blaise…” There’s a warning in Mia’s voice, but I’m done with her. Done with this. She has defended him for the last fucking time.
Shoving her off my lap, I shoot to my feet and walk out, slamming the door behind me. As I stalk down the hallway toward the bathroom, my hands drag down my face.
Why the hell am I so wound up? I don’t even know.
After splashing ice-cold water on my face and spending an eternity bracing my hands against the sink while staring into the mirror, I push off and walk out.
I’ll grab my coat and leave. There’s no point staying if I have to watch Allie dry-hump Cole all night. Just the thought makes my stomach churn.
I’ve barely opened the door before a hand grabs me by the throat and shoves me back into the bathroom.
Surprised, I stumble against the bathtub, barely catching my fall.
What the hell?
Cole locks the bathroom door, then looks at me over his shoulders. His mussed-up hair bears the proof of Allie’s wandering fingers.
Fingers I want to break.
The raging storm inside me makes me see red, clouding my vision. Striding toward him, I shove him up against the wall and fist his hoodie.
Not one to back down from a fight, he fists my T-shirt fiercely.
We size each other up.
Staring.
Breathing.
