Clearly, Luke was done ignoring me.
“Which one?” he asked.
I shook my head because I wasn’t following.
“Which one did you convince yourself I was thinkin’ of when I was f**kin’ you? Was it Roxie?”
I stared at him, my tight throat getting even tighter because he was guessing. Why on earth was he guessing?
No time to dwell on that without tequila.
Time to move on, fast.
“I’ll, um…” I stopped, deciding to ignore his question and get on with packing so I could get out, get to the store, buy an enormous amount of food that had no healthy living mojo whatsoever, go home and start the painful process of getting over Luke which I assumed would take me approximately one hundred and fifty years therefore, I had to get started, pronto. After making this decision, I started speaking again. “Give someone a call to come and pick me up.”
I leaned to the side, reached to get my toothbrush and his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around my wrist and he yanked on it, bringing me closer to him.
My head tilted back and I looked at him. I was beginning to lose it, beginning to let all those things I wasn’t thinking of, all those things I’d buried, seep into my head and they were overpowering.
I wanted to be angry. It wasn’t me who was in love with someone else. It wasn’t me who had a fight in bar parking lot like a testosterone-fuelled idiot. However, for some reason, I was having trouble holding on to anger and instead felt something far, far worse.
“Which one?” he repeated.
“Luke, let me go,” I said quietly, mainly because my throat was closing even more and I couldn’t get more than a quiet sound out of my mouth. I swallowed as I felt the tears hit the backs of my eyes and I looked down at his fingers wrapped around my wrist. When he didn’t release me, I repeated, “Please, let go.”
“Look at me,” he returned, his tone low and vibrating with fury.
“Please let me go,” I whispered again and I felt the wetness in my eyes start to spill over just as he used my wrist to give me another yank. I really didn’t want to cry but I didn’t have a choice. It was either that or let my throat close completely, making me suffocate which, I thought distractedly, might not be a bad thing.
His fingers were beginning to get painful and I continued in a whisper. “You’re hurting me.”
He let my wrist go immediately, tore the bag out of my other hand and threw it in the sink. Then he advanced, pushing me back against the wall, his body coming in close, his heat hitting me.
I kept my face down and to the side and pressed my lips together trying to control my thoughts and the tears. His anger filled the room but it didn’t frighten me. All I could think was getting out, slicing off this part of my life and starting over, as soon as possible.
“Look at me, Ava,” Luke pressed. “Which one?”
“Step back, Luke,” I said in a small voice but he just pushed closer.
“I’ll take you to Zano myself the minute you f**kin’ answer me.”
I flinched as uncontrolled pain sliced through me at Luke offering to take me to Ren. I hated the idea that he was so through with me that he was ready to hand me off to another man. But there it was.
“Move away, please,” I said quietly.
He pressed even closer, his body now full frontal with mine and I was looking at his shoulder.
“You didn’t feel it at all, did you Ava?” he asked and I could tell by the sound of his voice that this was an important question. I didn’t know what he was talking about and I wasn’t going to ask.
I lifted my hands to his waist, grabbed fistfuls of his tee and pushed, pressing my bodyweight into his to move him back. The tears were streaming down my face and I was going to make sob noises soon, I just knew it. I didn’t want him to see me cry but I really didn’t want him to hear me make a sob noise.
“Move away,” I repeated.
“Who the f**k was it that you told Zano I was thinkin’ of when I was f**kin’ you?” he was back to his original topic, which was and was not a relief considering I knew what he was talking about this time but I still didn’t wish to participate in the discussion.
“Move away,” I said again.
“Answer me.”