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Jamal dusted off my shoulders and turned my body towards the kitchen. He stood in front of me, looking down. His dark eyes were hazy. I pulled my lip between my teeth.
I leaned in close. “I want you too,” I whispered. “You and Fletcher.”
Jamal blinked. “Let’s get some food.”
“I said—”
“I know, honey,” Jamal replied, taking a deep, measured breath. “But you should eat something.”
I looked away, feeling awkward, and made my way to the kitchen on Fletcher’s heels.
Jamal went to the fridge and pulled out some sandwich ingredients, and I tried my hardest to hop onto the countertop so that I could sit and watch. When I keeled over to the side, Fletcher placed his hands on my waist and hoisted me onto the kitchen island. I inhaled sharply at the feel of his hands gripping the indent of my waist, the press of his body for only a moment as he lifted me. Fletcher’s green eyes were wide, with lashes that every girl would envy. I wondered what he used to look like before he died.
Then I realized that it didn’t matter.
I gripped his fingers, widening my legs to accommodate him as he stood between them.
My face showed no emotion, but inside, I was burning.
I tried to rationalize it in my mind. Fletcher was the least serious of all of the guys. He was the fun one. Where everything was a game to him.
Maybe I would be a game to him.
Maybe that was what I needed, just for a little while.
My body sure seemed to think so.
“Fletcher, mate,” Jamal said, trying to catch his attention.
Fletcher blinked as if the spell was broken and stepped back. “You’re drunk.” He told me.
I chuffed a breath. “I’m not anymore.”
“Uh-huh.” Fletcher rolled his eyes playfully as he moved to the coffee machine. He took one of the pods out of the rack and placed it inside before taking a mug out of the cupboard above it.
I turned, finding Jamal watching both of us. His arms were crossed over his chest as he rested his hip on the island.
“What?” I demanded, both brows raised.
Jamal pushed himself away from the counter. “You’re being very naughty.”
“Am I?” My nose wrinkled.
Jamal continued walking until he was closer to me. The only part of my body that moved was my eyes, as they followed his movement. He retook his position next to me, leaning on the counter. His dark, almost black eyes flicked over my face intensely. Jamal lifted his hand slowly, and I watched as his fingers got closer to my face, and he gently moved a lock of my copper hair out of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear.
I blinked, unable to even take a breath.
I had seen Jamal flirt with everything that moved. I had seen the way he had broken Isabella’s heart at the side of the pool without even a backward glance. Would that be me if I allowed it?
Cody had shown me that I was replaceable, even when my millions of subscribers had led me to believe that I wasn’t. That I was exceptional, and my every asinine thought was somehow exciting and worthy of being pushed out onto the Internet.
Dying had changed me.
My surgeries had been stripped from me, my body had changed, and even my face was different. I was forced to look into the heart of myself, and I couldn’t decide if I was likable. If I had something to offer now that I wasn’t ValentineXO anymore.
“What are you thinking about?” Jamal asked.
“Am I likable?” I replied, unable to reel the words back in once they had escaped from my mouth.
