Chapter 65
Camila POV
I almost gagged.
ミ
The stench of alcohol hit me like a damn brick wall, thick and sour. My nose scrunched up, and I instinctively leaned
back, trying to put some distance between us.
“Let me go,” I muttered, jerking my arm, but his grip didn’t budge.
Instead, he chuckled. Chuckled. Like this was some hilarious game we were playing.
“You’re cute,” he mused, his fingers tightening slightly around my wrist.
The fuck.
A wave of revulsion crawled up my spine.
I didn’t hesitate. I ripped my arm out of his grasp and took a step back, my heart thudding in my chest.
“First of all,” I snapped, “you stink. Second, I have zero interest in whatever sleazy drunk fantasy you’re cooking up in
that mess of a brain.”
He swayed slightly, unfazed, his bleary eyes still locked onto me like I was some sort of puzzle he was too drunk to
solve.
T
“Oh, come on,” he slurred. “Don’t be like that. We’re just talking.”
“News flash,” I shot back. “I don’t want to talk to you,”
His smirk twitched, like he wasn’t used to rejection or something. Like he actually expected me to giggle and flirt
back.
Fucking delusional.
He took a step closer.
I stepped back.
“Relax, I was just- ”
“I don’t give a shit what you were ‘just‘ doing,” I cut him off. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
For a second, I thought he might actually listen.
Then he took a step closer.
I stepped back immediately, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.
This guy was drunk. Maybe not falling–over drunk, but drunk enough to not give a shit about boundaries. His eyes- dark, a little glassy- scanned me in a way that made my skin crawl.
1/4
Chapter 65
God, where the hell was Anya?
‘Oh, come on,” he drawled, smiling like I was overreacting. “I’m just being friendly.”
Because grabbing people and ignoring when they tell you to back off was the universal definition of friendly.
“I don’t need your kind of friendly,” I shot back, my tone sharp.
His smirk twitched again, like my words amused him, but I caught something else in his eyes. Something darker.
Annoyance.
Oh, you don’t like being told no? Boo–fucking–hoo.
His fingers flexed around his glass. “No need to get all worked up, sweetheart.”
I clenched my jaw, inhaling sharply through my nose. I had two options here- engage or escape.
I could stand here, waste my breath arguing with some wannabe–creep who thought he was charming, or I could just remove myself from the situation entirely.
Easy choice.
I turned on my heel. “Goodnight.”
But the second I moved, he reached for me again.
Instinct kicked in before my brain even processed it.
I whipped around, my arm flying up, and smacked his wrist away with enough force to make him stumble slightly. His glass sloshed, nearly spilling over.
“Are you deaf, or just stupid?” I glared up at him, my blood practically boiling. “I said. Don’t. Touch. Me.”
His face twisted- half surprised, half pissed.
For a split second, tension thickened in the air.
Then he huffed a laugh, shaking his head like I was some amusing little thing throwing a tantrum.
“Damn. Feisty,” he muttered, rubbing his wrist.
I didn’t stick around to hear whatever else he had to say.
I stormed up the stairs, my hands shaking slightly as I gritted my teeth.
The second I reached my room, I slammed the door shut and locked it.
Then I exhaled.
Long. Słow
2/4
Chapter 65
Fucking asshole.
I leaned against the door, pressing my palm to my forehead. My heart was still beating too fast, my skin still prickling from the unwanted contact.
Anger simmered beneath my ribs, hot and pulsing.
I wasn’t scared.
I was pissed.
Anya really left me alone with that guy? Seriously?
I knew she was reckless, but this was a new level of what the actual fuck.
I swallowed the frustration burning in my throat and pushed off the door, dragging myself toward my bed.
Sleep. I just needed sleep.
I climbed under the covers, yanking them over me as if that would erase the last five minutes from existence.
It didn’t.
I stared at the ceiling, my mind buzzing, my stomach twisted in knots.
Tonight sucked.
Just when I started to settle under the covers-
Creeeeak.
My breath hitched.
My gaze snapped toward the door.
The door I know I locked.
But there it was- slowly, silently, swinging open like a horror movie cliche.
I shot up in bed, my pulse spiking.
You have got to be fucking kidding me,
My fingers curled around the edge of the blanket, a sharp rush of frustration cutting through the unease.
Did I… forget to lock it? No way. I remembered the firm press of my fingers against the knob, the slight resistance before the latch clicked into place. I knew I locked it.
So unless I was losing my goddamn mind-
Or-
3/4
Chapter 65
My stomach twisted into a knot.
Oh, please, don’t tell me the lock is broken.
The door cased open another inch, the dim hallway light bleeding into the shadows of my room. And then
A shadow filled the doorway.
Broad shoulders. A lazy slouch.
The faint clink of ice shifting in a glass.
And then his smirk.
Smug. Unbothered. Like he had all the time in the world.
Anya’s boyfriend.
Mike? Matt? Mark?
Whatever the hell his name was.
It didn’t matter…
What mattered was that he was standing inside my room, uninvited, looking at me like I was a goddamn prize he had
come to claim.
Like I had been waiting for him.
My fingers curled around the blanket, nails digging into the fabric as rage surged under my skin.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I snapped, my voice cutting through the thick, suffocating air.
Chapter Comments
LIKE
