evie

“All packed up?” he asks, his deep voice pulling me from my thoughts as I glance toward the opposite end of the couch.

“Yeah,” I nod, reaching for my phone when it dings, the feeling of dread nestling back into my chest.

This morning after I’d finally pulled myself from the safety of my bed, I found a message on my phone from one of my friends that had me on the verge of tears or prison, I wasn’t sure which. She’d asked me about the pictures Mike had posted, sending me into a panic.

I spoke with her quickly, assuring myself the pictures weren’t on Mike’s page anymore. However, my sneaking suspicion that there was some damage that would never be undone was only validated with her call.

As I pulled open the text window, relief fills me when I see what’s waiting for me.

This is nothing. This is a goofy meme from Steve about the gym, one of the few things we’d been able to discuss before Dash humiliated me at the bar last night.

After sending a quick reply, I feel my lips curl up on either side into a soft smile and I set it to the side, returning my attention to Dash.

What the fuck am I going to do about Dash?

“How about you?” I ask, swallowing hard as I meet his eyes.

“What was that?” he asks.

“What was what?”

“That little smirk,” he continues, eyes narrowed as he gestures toward my cell.

“Who says I’m smirking?” I ask, my face scrunching up slightly at his impromptu interrogation.

“Your face says it,” he counters, sipping from his beer. “What are you smirking about? Who are you talking to?”

“Oh, my God,” I start, sitting up and giving him a look. “What are you, a girl?”

“Answer the question, Evie,” he orders. “Who’s on the phone?”

“It’s Steve, mother.”

“That guy from the bar?” he asks, the words coming out like they’d been tainted in dog shit as I nod my answer. “Why the hell are you still talking to that guy?”

“Because I can, you psycho!”

“You said… what time is it?” he trails off, lifting his phone and looking back at me. “Not even twelve hours ago you said you weren’t gonna fuck him.”

“Are you insane?” I ask, gawking at him and shaking my head when he shrugs. “What part of texting are you getting confused with fucking?”

“You and I both know I’m very well versed in the difference,” he responds, his eyes darting over my legs before they return to mine. “But if you aren’t gonna fuck him, you have no reason to be talking to him.”

“What?” I rail, eyes wide. “What if I want to be friends with him?”

“Trust me,” he chuckles. “That guy does not want to be your friend.”

“How would you know?”

“I told you, babe,” he shrugs. “If a guy’s paying attention, he’s trying to fuck you.”

“You said nine times out of ten,” I counter smugly. “Thanks to your psychotic ass, he thinks I have a boyfriend, so I’m sure he’s number ten, the exception.”

“Yeah, well you thought I was, too and look where that got you.”

“You’re an idiot,” I shake my head, typing another quick reply and turning back to Dash. “And you know what, even if I was planning on fucking him, why would that even matter to you?”

“Because I don’t want you to,” he says bluntly.

“Why does it matter, Dash?”

“Because you’re fucking me.”

“I won’t be if you keep this shit up,” I raise my eyebrow. “So, we’re fucking. Big deal. We’re not together, we’re not dating, right? I mean, you don’t want any of that, do you?”

“No,” he says immediately. “But that doesn’t mean I want you fucking him.”

“I feel like I’m trapped in that movie Groundhog Day…” I trail off, remembering the argument we’d had the night before when he hauled me outside. “If we’re just scratching an itch, I still don’t really see how who I’m fucking is any of your business.”

“Because we’re fucking, Evie! Geez, what the hell is the problem? How many guys do you need to sleep with?” he counters, exasperated, making my head turn and my mouth open in shock. “What the hell, baby? Do you think you’re Hugh Hefner or something?”

“Did you just call me a slut?”

“No, I definitely did not call you a slut,” he insists, putting his hands up in surrender. “I’m just sayin’…”

“Well, I would be incredibly careful of what you just say next, Dash.”

“Oh, my God,” he groans, shaking his head and facing me. “Look, if you fuck him, every time I fuck you, I’m gonna feel like I’m having a three-way with Steve,” he starts, watching my expression slip into one of desire and consideration. “No!”

“Alright, I thought we were doing this once we got back home, but obviously it can’t wait,” I roll my eyes, turning to face him from my end of the couch. “So, what are you saying?” I ask, my voice trailing off with my sudden nerves. “I mean, do you have feelings for me?”

He thinks for a second, making me insane, before he answers slow.

“Evie, it’s not like that.”

“Then what is it like, Dash?”

“You don’t need to fuck anyone else while you’re fucking me,” he shrugs, brushing off whatever thought was just holding him captive. “That’s what it’s like.”

“Fine, then I won’t,” I shrug, holding his eyes in challenge. “But you don’t get to fuck anyone else, either.”

“Fine,” he shrugs, making me narrow my eyes.

“So, we’re only fucking each other...”

“Yep.”

“And according to you, I don’t need to talk to a guy I’m not fucking, so that means we’re only hanging out with each other…”

“Well, I can’t imagine with that charming attitude of yours, you’ve got very many friends,” he says, smirking when I raise my middle finger. “So, yeah, pretty much.”

“But we’re not dating.”

“Why the hell do you want us to date so bad, Evie? You don’t even like me. The only reason we aren’t fighting right now is because we finally found one thing to do together that makes us not want to kill each other.”

“I don’t want us to date, Dash,” I retort, ignoring his look of annoyance when I take his beer from him and steal a long sip. “I just wanted you to hear, out loud, how stupid you sound.”

The truth of it is, regardless of the feelings I’d been having over the past few days, feelings I know I’ll take to my grave before I ever admit to him or anyone else for that matter, I meant what I’d said. I don’t need to date Dash. I think we both know that us together in any real sense would be a complete disaster.

However, I’m admittedly a relationship girl. I don’t particularly want one with Dash, but monogamy had always been easier for me than anything else, so none of this is a problem for me in the slightest.

I’m really only arguing because I like to annoy him.

“You think I’m not used to you calling me an idiot or something?” he smirks, pulling my attention to him and his expression making me laugh as I continue to sip from the stolen bottle. “Give me a fuckin’ break. That shit’s like foreplay now, baby. Call me whatever you want, just stop texting that douchebag,” he shrugs, reaching for my phone and tossing it onto the table beside him before taking the now empty beer bottle from my hand. “And stop drinking all my beer.”