The same Christian who learned how to braid your hair when Eda wasn’t around and Eunbin was in the hospital.
The same Christian who rewrote your confession on the sidewalk to him when the old lady next door washed it away.
If he wasn’t the same Christian he was back then, he wouldn’t have given me the choice of privacy.
I can do this.
“Wait,” I said.
His back went rigid as he stopped mere feet away from me.
I lifted the hem of my dress over my body and let it drop to the floor. “Turn around.”
Agonizingly, he did as I commanded.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
My heart stopped beating.
He stood on display in front of me.
And there, right where his heart was, an uncanny resemblance of my birthmark was marked on his skin.
TWENTY-TWO
CHRISTIAN
Fucked.
That was the only way I could describe the situation.
She was wearing a fucking skin-coloured bra. Might as well be fucking naked. Her tits constricted against the material when she let out a hoarse sigh.
Old Adelaide would have questioned the tattoo.
Present Adelaide gawked at it, then she stopped.
Deciding to drive me fucking crazy instead by stripping out of her dress.
Black booty shorts pressed high around her legs. She pulled them up, covering the stretch marks on her stomach when I found them fucking hot.
I adjusted myself in my pants.Pure fucking torture.
My muscles were flexing with the need to hit something.
Here I thought I had to be gentle with Adelaide. Yet, she pulled out a sharp blade and carved a disturbance into me.
“What thefuckwere you thinking?”
Hard as fucking stone, I watched her grab my shirt and pull it on. “You’re teaching me how to be confident right?”
“First step to being confident,” she left the buttons open. “Strip away all barriers, right?”
Fuck me.
Throwing my head back, I kept my eyes shut tight enough to see the lines of my eyeballs.
“I actually don’t think I need this.”
