Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3) (10 page)

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Authors: Veronica Larsen

BOOK: Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3)
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Her finger appears in front of my face like a knife. "Cut it out. I'm not going to live with someone who looks at me like I'm something on a menu and—" She cuts off and for a moment, looking too angry to think of what else to say. She crosses her arms and turns from me like she's about to storm off, yet stands there, visibly ruminating her next words.
 

From the other side of me, a small hand lays on the side of my cheek, nudging my face until my eyes connect with the blue-eyed girl standing there, the one I've been talking to on and off all night.

"Hey you," she says, her words carrying a lot more than just a simple greeting.

I take her hand in mine and set it back down beside her. I've never liked women touching my face. It's always felt off to me, motherly and too sentimental.

"My friends are leaving. But I was wondering if I should stay?" she asks, slipping her fingers through a belt loop of my pants and bringing her small frame closer to mine.

Earlier in the night, I had all but decided I was going to fuck this girl. And she's making it blatantly obvious she wants nothing more. The problem is, I'm suddenly not tempted enough. I'm almost bored by the thought of it.

I open my mouth to speak, but catch a glimpse of Julia as the last traces of irritation on her face yield to an almost mischievous glint in her eyes. She shoots the blonde an apologetic smile, then looks to me and in a low, embarrassed way, says, "Hey, could you stop leaving your genital wart cream laying around the bathroom? It got all over the sink and it's a bitch to clean up. That stuff reeks."

She could win an Oscar for this performance. Perfect delivery, flawless expression. Her grave concern weighing on her face like a mask.
 

Beside me, the girl's eyebrows tug closer and her mouth twists downward into a mortified expression that she's trying but failing to keep back. It's all too perfect. I bring a hand up to the space between my eyes and laugh. A long, low chuckle.

"
Um
." The girl shifts in place, turning her body away from mine, "Okay. This is weird."

Takes me a few seconds for my shoulders to stop shaking and during that time I watch the girl walk across the room to join her waiting group of friends. Julia remains on the other side of me, radiating triumph.

"Is that what you wanted?" I ask, finally locking eyes with her. "Are you happy now?"

She smiles and I'm sure she's aware of how mocking she appears. Mocking enough to send a spark of irritation shooting through me. Julia's the one having fun at my expense tonight. I don't like when the tables turn like this.
 

Noticing my souring expression, Julia pats my chest and says, "Cool your tits, bro," and just in case I didn't get the reference, she adds, "payback's a bitch."

I watch her stroll past me and down the hall with such an air of defiance that it's almost a swagger. I can't deny it's a good look on her.

Just before she disappears into the bathroom, I call out, "I don't think you're ready to play this game, Julia."
 

Her hand lifts in a lazy wave, dismissing my ominous threat.

A few hours later, after almost everyone has gone home, I head to my room, alone. It's not until I'm already in bed that something on my nightstand catches my attention. There's an ornate, white picture frame that I've never seen before, propped up where someone obviously wanted me to see it. Confused, I pick it up. There's no picture in it. Instead, behind the glass, there's a sheet of paper with a single line written in a loopy, feminine handwriting.
 

The note reads:
Break glass in the unlikely event you get laid tonight.
 

And at the bottom of the paper, there's a condom taped to it. I recognize it as one of my own from within the bedside drawer. A glance inside the drawer reveals she's gotten rid of all my other condoms, which would force me to break the frame if I needed one.

Touché, Julia.

If it's a prank war she wants, a prank war is what she'll get.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Julia

A
PART
OF
ME
was surprised last night when I slipped into the house party and Giles didn't immediately swoop down on me. Still wounded from my embarrassing encounter at work, I was somehow all the more determined to stand up to Giles if he so much as blinked at me the wrong way.
 

I didn't expect there to be so many people at the house. When I first walked in, I hung back in the kitchen, looking for Giles even though I tried pretending that wasn't what I was doing.
 

Eventually, I spotted him. He looked so damn handsome in his button down shirt, smoothing it out in a gesture that seemed suave and inviting. But I also spotted the pretty girl beside him, the blonde whose undivided attention he seemed to feed on. He only had eyes for her and I was not prepared for the trickle of jealousy that ran through me, seeing how wrapped up in her he seemed to be.

Yeah, maybe a ridiculous part of my ego is what prompted me to embarrass him in front of his potential hookup. It might have been petty, but, God, did I enjoy it. His reaction made me giddy with self-indulgent excitement and for the first time, I wondered if maybe that was why he seemed to like pushing my buttons so much. Because pushing buttons really is fun.

This morning, I wake up to my alarm clock blaring louder than it ever has before. I shoot up in bed, frazzled and confused, until I remember the last time I used the radio feature of the clock was when I played music in my room as I moved my belongings in. Last night, I set the alarm in order to wake up in time to meet with my uncle this morning. I would've typically used my phone but I'd already been in bed, my phone too far for me to reach.
 

My uncle called me back before I even left Lex's office, and wasted no time offering his help and asking me to meet him for breakfast this morning to discuss my options.
 

I spend a while in the shower, letting the hot water pour over my face and body and wash away my nerves. I'm finally on the road to handling my unintentional sex tape once and for all. Yet, instead of feeling relieved, or hopeful, I'm numb and a bit hollow. At the end of the day, the damage is done. Countless numbers of people have seen it. All of my friends and my entire family know about it. There's no coming back from that.
 

I'm fighting a battle that has no clear winning point. Some battles aren't tangible, simply mirrors to other things that are wrong with the world around us. Still, the instinct to fight is unavoidable. It's not something I've ever known how to ignore.

Keep your head up
, Lex's voice chimes in my head.

I try to pull on her words to empower me. Because she's absolutely right. Why am I made to feel ashamed of the fact that I had sex? What right did any of my friends or family have to even glance at that footage? The fact that they did was, to me, a huge betrayal. And that's why I can't bring myself to talk to my parents or even my sisters. But knowing that doesn't make it easy.

You did nothing wrong,
Lex said.

She's wrong about that one. I did a lot of things wrong. All my life I've battled with discovering myself in a safe environment, when it seemed that my body was on public display, a constant source of unwanted male attention.

There was a time, in high school, where I tried to be what guys wanted me to be. I tried to dress and act a certain way to impress them, thinking I'd become a woman inside to match the womanly body outside. But it didn't work that way. Instead, I felt smaller and cheaper and less like me.
 

It's weird how much a single experience can change you. How a few months can mold you into something harder. My edges are sharper and my vision is clearer. And now I'm finally on the cusp of settling into myself and figuring out who I am and what I truly want, I can feel it. I could sense it even before all of this happened.
 

I broke up with Andrew because I realized I was with him for the wrong reasons. He wasn't good for me. And, in retrospect, he didn't seem genuine about our relationship. And our first time together? It felt wrong. Even before I found out he had been secretly recording it, it still felt wrong. I was scared and uncomfortable and self-conscious, going through the motions without really enjoying any of it. But he didn't concern himself with me in the least, he was too wrapped up in his own enjoyment. He was selfish and careless.

I realized too late that losing my virginity to a guy like him wasn't what I truly wanted. It was too late to take it back, but it wasn't too late to walk away from him. I broke up with him a few days later and he immediately proved I'd made the right decision when he reacted by calling me names, demeaning everything we'd done together. Yeah, it hurt, but not as much as when he went on to upload that video, like the disgusting pig he is. He hid his real side well for a while, but when I think back on it, I realize I ignored a lot of red flags.
 

I always knew I wasn't going to wait until marriage to have sex, but I somehow thought I could wait to be with the right person and then it would be something special. I didn't think I'd be waiting until my early twenties, in the college environment where everyone treats sex so casually. By the time I found myself dating Andrew, who said and did the right things for the right amount of time, I tumbled over the embarrassing cliché of handing my V card over to a jerk.

If I ever met that girl now, I'd have to re-introduce myself. She wouldn't even recognize me. But I cringe at the thought of her being here in my place and living with Giles. How weak would she be around him? I'm not even sure if Giles is as bad as Andrew, but he can't be any better. He's still just another oversexed guy, with nothing else on his mind but what girl he can score next.
 

Whatever he thinks, it sure as hell won't be me.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Giles

T
HE
NEXT
MORNING
, I wake up earlier than I normally would, to the sound of distant music playing somewhere in the house. It's not until the sound cuts off quickly to silence that I realize it's someone's alarm clock. Can't be Ava's because she never wakes up this early.

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