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“You sure liked being wet sophomore—”
I slammed my hands into his chest again, not even letting him finish. “Can you not?”
He stepped closer to me, snaking his hand around my throat and pinning me to the wall, like he used to. All those memories came flooding back, and I had to resist the urge to shiver at the thought of everything we used to do together—in the back of his car, late nights after his games, him touching me under the desk in Geometry.
It was the lowest point in my life.
He leaned down slightly, his hot breath in my ear. “Listen to me, Allie.” He strummed his fingers against the side of my neck, and a rush of heat warmed all those sinful parts of me. “The next time you interrupt me when I have a girl over, it’s going to be your ass sitting in the bed with me when she leaves, finishing off what she started.”
After I gathered all my strength, I pushed him away. “Gross,” I said in a breathy whisper, afraid that if I spoke any louder, my voice would betray me. I crossed my arms over my chest, wanting to put as much space between us as possible.
I hated living with him. It was shit like this every day.
“Why do you even have a girl over anyway?” I asked. “What happened to Nicole? Did she decide you were a shitty boyfriend and dump your annoying ass?”
That smirk disappeared from his face and was replaced with anger and hatred and a tinge of what looked like hurt.
“Fuck you,” he said under his breath. He pushed me out into the hall and slammed the door shut.
I slapped my palm against it, still seething. “This is not over, Jace.”
And it wasn’t over. We weren’t over either.
