Cheerful conversations filled my ears when I opened the front door, after spending fifteen minutes in the car, debating whether to turn around and head over to my apartment.
“There she is!” Ethan exclaimed spotting me when I tried to sneak upstairs unnoticed. “Hey, cutie, how are you doing?” He jogged over to kiss my cheek, and wrapped his arms around my middle, hurting my ribs.
The conversations stopped when I moved away, glancing around the room. My friends watched me with pitiful expressions. There were also two guys there that I didn’t know, and…Chrissy.
She stood beside Thomas; her arm interlocked with his, a pretty smile on her perfect face. Movie-star worthy make-up, a beige pencil skirt and a white, lacy blouse. She could make any man beg.
My stomach tied in knots. I settled for a small wave aimed at no one in particular, before I averted my gaze to Ethan, hoping that my face didn’t betray the havoc Chrissy’s presence wreaked in my system.
Somewhere deep down I hoped that after the night we spent together, Thomas would stop seeing her.
Pity the fool.
“I’m okay,” I said. “I see the plans changed.”
“You didn’t want to join us, so we joined you.” Ethan smiled.
Nick chose that moment to come closer. “You can scream at me later. Now come on; I want you to meet someone.”
“Let me change, okay?”
Anything to get out of there and pep-talk myself to endure an evening of watching the guy I loved with someone else at his side.
“Yeah, sure.” He pressed his lips to my forehead. “Wine or tequila?”
“Tequila, please.”
I climbed the stairs, dropped my bag on the bedroom floor and unzipped the not-weather-appropriate dress, letting it slide down my legs. The house was warm enough to wear a blouse but considering the still-visible bruises on my arms and neck, I settled for another baggy sweater. It had its perks—I would be warm for the first time today.
I jumped when the door to my bedroom opened. Thomas stood in the doorway; his fists clenched as tight as his jaw.
“Turn around,” he said, his voice full of poorly concealed tension.
I shook my head, trying to put the jumper on, but struggled to find the holes where arms go while holding his gaze. I ended up putting my head in the sleeve. It should have been funny, but it stressed me out more.
Thomas closed the distance when I freed myself out of the knitted trap, his composure nothing more than a front when he snatched the jumper from me and threw it back on the bed.
“Turn around,” he repeated. “Please, baby.Turn. Around.”
My gaze dropped to the floor, but I obeyed, shame heating my cheeks. Thomas ghosted his fingers over the bruises. Goose bumps erupted on my skin everywhere he touched. My mistakes, naivety and vulnerability were never more on display, but I didn’t dare move.
“I’m fine,” I muttered, standing there like an orphan.
“You’renotfine, just admit it and stop hiding behind a mask.”
He placed his hand on my stomach, spacing his finger before he pressed me flush against his chest and hid his face in my hair, inhaling a deep breath. The muscles in his arms and abdomen relaxed. A wave of heat engulfed my senses, the closeness of his body like artificial endorphins.
“The tattoo…” he uttered, his lips brushing against my ear. “Why birds?”
The final sketch of the puppet included little birds. They held the strings that used to be in Adrian’s grip in their beaks, representing freedom and survival.
I placed my hand on his, risking rejection and another wave of blinding disappointment. Thomas’s breathing hitched for a second, but he let me lace our fingers, and we both let all the air from our lungs.
“I have to go up,” I said, my eyes closed.
He squeezed my fingers and pressed a kiss to my shoulder, draping the other hand across my collarbones.
“I didn’t bringherhere. She’s Jane’s friend from work, and they were together when Mel called about the party.”