23. Scarlet
TWENTY-THREE
SCARLET
We make it almost a whole episode before the food arrives.
Well, he makes it, anyway, because I’m a freaking mess.
First, he all but demanded I cuddle with him, which alone was enough to short circuit my brain. But then, when I grabbed the remote and felt him grow hard... yeah, let’s just say I’ve been distracted.
Like so much so that I don’t notice the knock at the door. Not until Ellis nudges me and asks, “You gonna let me up or would you prefer your burger cold?”
“Yeah, no.” I scramble off the couch. “Sorry.”
“All good, Scar,” he says as he stands, throwing a cocky wink over his shoulder as he heads to the door. “Couch or bar?”
“Bar.” I practically shout the word, desperate to put some much needed space between us.
Being around him feels like being on a tilt-a-whirl. He’s intoxicating, infuriating, confusing, and so fucking tempting I could scream.
The line drawn between us used to be razor sharp, but now it may as well be drawn in shifting sand. It feels as if we’re on a precipice, and one strong wind could either send us spiraling apart or crashing into each other, and the thought of either outcome terrifies me.
“Works for me. Want to grab us drinks?”
I nod and head for the fridge, sticking my head inside to cool my heated cheeks before grabbing two bottles of water. It doesn’t escape my notice we prefer the same brand.
“I was thinking,” I say as I slide onto the stool beside him. “I’ll try yours if you try mine.”
His sinful lips curl into the most devilish of smirks. “Is that the food equivalent of I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours?”
“Oh my god, Ellis!”
“Yeah, that’s usually what comes next.”
I press my palms into my now-flaming cheeks. “You are... wow.”
“Princess, if you’re already this much in awe, just imagine—”
I jam my fingers into my ears, toddler style. “La-la-la. I can’t hear you.”
He cracks up. “Relax, I’m just fucking with you. Here, eat.” He slides a white takeout box with a dancing fried egg on it my way.
“Thanks.” I flip the lid and groan in delight as soon as the scent meets my nostrils.
“You haven’t even eaten anything yet.”
“Nope, but I can see it and I can smell it and I know it’s going to be fucking amazing.”
He casts a dubious look at my selection. “Fine. I’ll try it.”
“I promise, you won’t regret it.” I grab a waffle fry and poke it into the egg on top of my fries, busting the yolk before dragging it into the sauce, which is a perfect blend of tangy, sweet, and spicy.
I pop the fry into my mouth, and my eyes all but roll back into my head as the rich flavors burst across my tongue.
“So good, but why don’t you start with the burger? Baby steps, and what not.”
He picks up my burger, takes a deep breath, and then takes the daintiest bite known to mankind. I don’t hesitate to call him on it, either. “Oh my god, did you even get anything other than bun? James could bite off more than that.”
“Excuse the fuck out of me for trying to be neat.” He goes in for another bite, and much to my delight, both yolk and mayo drip down his chin. “Oh, fuck, that’s good.”
“Told you,” I say, smug as all get out. “Now try this.” I hold a yolky fry up to his mouth for him to try.
His lips brush my fingers as he accepts my offering, causing us both to groan. Him for the food, and me for him. Fucking hell.
“Told you it was good,” I mumble, as he dabs at his chin with a napkin.
“Never been happier to be wrong.” He lifts his brows and tips his head ever so slightly my way. “But it will be a cold day in hell before I try your pizza order.”
“We’ll see,” I say, pleased when my voice comes out light and teasing, giving away nothing of the mess of emotions swarming inside of me.
I don’t even know if mess is a strong enough word, because before he wiped his chin, a small part of me was tempted to lean over and lick it off. Which would’ve been utterly unhinged and probably would’ve landed me back at my house, broken down door or not. Yay for self-control, I suppose.
But not acting on it isn’t enough to erase the idea of it. I still thought it. I still wanted to do it, and I’m really not sure what that says about me.
Ellis says friends can cuddle, and while I may not know all that much about having friends, I know that feels like a load of shit. But pretending he’s right—and that friends do, in fact, cuddle—what else do friends do?
Therein lies the problem. I don’t know the answer and I’m terrified to find out. Because something tells me, wherever and whatever that line is… once we cross it, we can never go back.
We literally just got to a good place, to a civil place, and I’m worried I’m only one small move away from tossing a grenade on whatever this is between us and blowing it up.
Fuck. Maybe sleep—and space—will help.
“Wanna watch more Gossip Girl?” he asks as he clears our trash.
I fake a yawn. “I’m actually exhausted and might call it a night.”
He studies me for a long minute and then nods. “Okay. You know where to find me if you need me.”
I push back from the bar and stand. “Thanks Ellis. For everything.”
“Sweet dreams, Scar.” He seems softer as he says it, and it does something to me. Something I’m not sure how I feel about. You know, other than confused.
Obviously being attracted to Ellis has never been the problem, at least not physically. But new and improved sweet Ellis… yeah, I don’t even know.
So, I do what I do best, and shove it down to deal with later. “Yeah, you too.”
I grab some jammies and head into the bathroom, where I fly through my nighttime routine before rushing back to my room.
My heart is racing as I burrow beneath the covers with my e-reader in hand. I scroll the online store, mindlessly swiping, until finally a title catches my eye.
Before I know it, I’m lost in the digital pages of a small-town girl reconnecting with her former love, who just so happens to be a country music superstar now.
I check the clock when I hit the fifty percent mark. “Holy hell, it’s after midnight.” I set my e-reader on the nightstand and roll onto my side, hoping sleep comes easy.
Except, right as I drift off, visions from my house earlier today flash through my mind like a demented highlight reel.
“Fuck,” I groan, picking my book back up.
My eyelids begin to droop after a few chapters, and I try to fall asleep again. But it’s no use. Every single time I’m about to conk out, some horrifying worry lingering along my periphery slams into my brain, startling me awake.
I grab my phone and make a note to buy some melatonin tomorrow because I’m a beast without sleep and the last thing I want is to snap at Ellis—or worse, someone at work on Monday.
The clock creeps past one and I try yet again to fall asleep, but it’s no use. All of the unknown variables keep swirling together creating a maelstrom of anxiety inside of me.
So, I keep reading. I read past the point of exhaustion, until the words blur together and I can no longer physically keep my eyes open for another second.
And then, just before two, sleep finally finds me.
ELLIS
“What was that?” I bolt upright in my bed, glancing around my darkened room. I sit perfectly still as I listen for anything out of the ordinary, but there’s nothing.
Must’ve been a dream, I reason as I stretch and settle back against my pillow.
“No, stop!” Scarlet screams, her voice shrill with terror.
I don’t think, I just react, grabbing my phone and my gun from my nightstand and running toward her room.
I’m tempted to clear the entire house but her frightened whimpers persuade me to forgo my training and go directly to her.
I shoulder open her door and enter her room with my gun drawn, but there’s no one there. No one other than Scarlet.
She twists and kicks and whimpers as she battles whatever monster is plaguing her dreams.
I flick on the safety and place my gun down on the nightstand before lowering myself onto the edge of her bed.
“Wake up,” I murmur, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’re okay, Scar. It’s only a dream. Wake up.” I jostle her lightly, but it’s enough, and before I know it, she launches herself into my arms.
“Oh, my god, El-Ellis,” she sobs, clinging hard to me. “It was s-s-so real.”
She’s shaking like a leaf and clawing at my chest, like she can’t get close enough.
“You’re safe, I’ve got. Just breathe, baby girl.”
She blinks up at me through tear-filled eyes and parts her lips like she wants to speak, but no intelligible words come out, only gut-wrenching sobs.
“Shhhh,” I soothe, holding her close. “It was only a dream. Not real. You’re here, safe, with me. I’ve got you.”
“N-not a dream.” It takes her a minute to get the words out. “A nightmare.”
I nod, my chin rubbing against the top of her head. “I know.”
“It was so real.” She shudders against me and then clutches me closer. “We... we were at my house, but he-he was still there and he k-killed you and threatened Fefe if I didn’t—” She devolves into another fit of hiccupping tears.
“I can’t even imagine. Truly. But I need you to calm down.” I pull my hand from her back and cup her cheek, guiding her face to look up at me. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t take a full breath.”
But it’s no use. She’s too far gone, and her fear is a living, breathing thing, sucking all of the light from the room as it pulses around us, filling the room.
So, I do the only thing I can think of—I kiss her.
It’s meant to be simple—a quick press of my lips to hers meant to reset her nervous system—except she didn’t get the memo because, before I know it, she’s straddling my lap as she flicks her tongue against my lips in a way that has me threatening to pop a semi.
Not the fucking time, man.
“Hey, whoa, Scar.” I try to pull back but she follows, sucking lightly on my lower lip. “You’ve—we can’t do this.”
“Why?” she asks, and while I can’t see her face, I can hear the pout she’s undoubtedly rocking in her voice.
“First of all, I refuse to take advantage of you.”
She rolls her eyes. “You wouldn’t be, but what’s your second point?”