“What the hell are you doing here?” I bark, toeing my boots off.
“Waiting for you—what else?” She lifts her skinny shoulder, and the comforter falls onto her lap, baring her big tits that used to make me all hot and bothered.
“I thought we had this conversation already.”
“Pf-f-f,” she dismisses, waving her hand, the clicking sound of those bracelets I absolutely fucking hate grating on my ears. “It was just a joke.”
"It was not," I say, clenching my jaw.
She stands up and walks toward me, trying to force her skinny hips to swing. It looks unnatural—too wide of a range. I’m surprised she hasn’t dislocated her pelvis. When she comes closer, she traces her finger from my bicep to my chest and then down. Aaaaand… nothing. No movements happeningdown there. None. She used to do it for me, but not for a while now. Not at all. I’m relieved, to be completely honest.
I grip her wrist and use it to keep her at a distance. “I saidthis—” I gesture with my free hand at the space between her and myself— “is done.”
“Why?” she screeches, snatching her wrist from my grasp, and I let her. So much for staying classy—her face, growing rapidly blotchier and twisted with offended fury, doesn’t predict a mature conversation to come.
“Because it was a good arrangement while it lasted.” I step back and look at her with a cold stare. “And now it’s passed its expiration date.”
“Arrangement?” she parrots, her voice pitchy and loud.
“What else did you think it was?” I’m taken aback—surely, she doesn’t think it was more than that. For fuck’s sake, I’ve been sleeping with a lot of people besides her, and she knows that. So has she.
“We were dating!” she shrieks, turning her heel to storm back to the bed, where she picks up her watch from the nightstand.
My laugh borders on a scoff. “No, we were not. We never even went out. We fucked other people. We didn’t meet each other’s family—”
“I’m friends with Alicia!” she screeches again, hitting my nightstand lamp with her clenched fist, sending it flying to the floor with a loudcrash. What in the ever-loving hell is happening with lamps recently? Alex first, and now Ashley. I’m going to have to start factoring in a monthly lamp-replacement budget if this keeps up.
“Oh, I highly doubt that.” My chuckle is dark. Alicia can’t stand Ashley, threatening to cut my balls off if I ever brought her to a family dinner. Not that it ever occurred to me to do so.
“Oh, you just don’t know anything. Nothing, Justin.” Then she begins laughing like a cartoon villain, and as melodramatic as it is, I get chills. There’s something in the way she says it. As if she really knows something I don’t.
“Are you done?” I level her with a stare.
“Yeah, I’m done! I’msofucking done with you!” She begins collecting her clothes from the floor. She created a fuckin’ mess just trying to be sexy, throwing her underwear everywhere. She was always a mess, and I absolutely hated it; there can only be one slob in this space, and that slob is me.
As she reaches the door, I stop her with a question: “How did you get in, Ashley?” I ask in my calmest voice.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she sneers.
“How?” I repeat firmly, and she sobers up instantly. She knows better than to fuck with me when I’m in no mood for games.
“The key under the rug at the back door,” she sniffs, calmer now but still thoroughly pissed.
“Forget it’s there.” My stare could freeze a lake to the damn bottom in a blink.
“Whatever,” she says, flipping her raven hair over her shoulder.
I take a mental note to change the location of my emergency keys and tell my parents about that.
I take a shower, microwave some dinner, and go to watch some TV. Cringing at the first bite of my barely edible meatballs with pasta, I yearn for my mom’s food. I need to visit them tomorrow. I haven’t been for a while, plus I’m missing the home-cooked food.
My phone rings, and I pick it up without looking. "Yeah?"
“Jus,” Alex’s tired voice says.
“Hey, motherfucker. Are you back yet?” I ask through huge bites. It helps to ignore the generally disgusting taste if I just shove it down the gullet. I probably look like a pelican eating.
“No, not ready yet. It’s fucking tough, man.” I hear his heavy sigh.
