ECSTASY

by KV Rose

  He doesn’t laugh at that and my palms feel sweaty. “What do you want to do, Zara?” he asks me quietly. The way he phrases it, like I still have a chance, like I might be something, it makes my throat tight, pressure building behind my eyes.

  I cough, pressing my fist to my mouth and staring up at the moon again, trying not to get too emotional over this shit. “I uh, well, you know I like philosophy, and—don’t laugh, I know it’s a useless degree—but I kind of thought it would be cool, if I ever…” my voice cracks and I take a deep breath.

  Jax claps his hand over my shoulder in a friendly gesture, kneading my muscles.

  I close my eyes, a little overwhelmed. “If I ever get over this, you know, if I don’t drive my life completely into the ground, I’d help other people. Like not a therapist, because I hate therapists.” I laugh a little and Jax’s fingers dig in a little deeper. Not to hurt me, but to comfort me. I think about the therapist I went to when I was five. They let me play with blocks and assured me that my parents’ divorce wasn’t my fault.

  A lot of good that did for the empty hole in my chest that my father had left.

  “But I don’t know. If I could be a speaker, or just a support system to someone. Using the whole Stoic bullshit about handling your own emotions. About getting over your own mental blocks that tell you that you just can’t quit.”

  I open my eyes, turn to Jax, who still has his hand on my shoulder. “I’m probably just full of shit. Don’t listen to me.”

  Jax doesn’t laugh like I wish he would. He meets my gaze instead, his eyes watery and blue. “You’re not full of shit. But to be honest, you’re makin’ me feel a little guilty about, you know, being your dealer and shit. If you really wanna stop, I can help you out, you know? And you’ll hate me for it.” He drops his hand from my shoulder, scrubs it over his jaw. “God, you’ll hate me, because I’ve done it before. And you’ll scream at me and we won’t be friends anymore, but if you want that help, I can do that for you.”

  My chest tightens with those words, and I can’t look away from him. I can’t look away from him and I know it’s a genuine offer, just like I know I’d never be able to accept it. Maybe right now, when I’m high as hell and in the moment, but as soon as I needed something, I’d be back on his doorstep and I would hate him.

  “Nah,” I smile at him. “It’s okay. It’s not that bad.” I turn again to the moon. “Not yet.”

  We’re quiet for a long moment. I’m not sure how much time passes but I start to feel sleepy when my phone vibrates again in my pocket.

  “Wanna get that?” Jax asks me lazily, like he doesn’t really care either way but he’s just making sure I know my phone is buzzing.

  I lean to the side, pull it out of my back pocket. I’ve got several missed texts from Alex.

  And one from Eli.

  Jax must peer over at my screen because he says, “Oh nice. The rapist.”

  I laugh, flipping my phone over and turning to look at Jax. “Is he really though?”

  Jax shrugs. “Probably not, but some bitch said he was.”

  “What happened?” I press. “Women don’t usually cry rape unless it really happened.” That’s an actual fact. And I don’t know if I want to know the whole story, but I know I need to get my head out of my ass and find out. A girl ended up dead at his house. He threw me on his kitchen counter and shoved a bottle in my mouth, hard enough to split my lip, just a few hours beforehand.

  I need to stop being stupid.

  But Jax just throws up his hands. “I dunno. Some wild party in this neighborhood and then some girl called the cops and said Alex and one of his friends tried to rape her and then prevented her from leaving the room. Apparently, they eventually let her go and she called the police.”

  My skin crawls thinking about that. One of his friends? And Alex is huge. He could easily stop a girl from leaving a room, and he could easily rape someone. At least physically. But I’m not so sure he’d actually do that. I mean, he was the one that put the brakes on the threesome.

  “Who was the friend? Were they charged with anything?”

  Jax shrugs again. “Dunno the dude’s name, I only heard this secondhand. I don’t fuck with most college boys. They’re pussies. Anyway, girl probably got spooked. I don’t even think she did a rape kit or whatever that shit’s called. She transferred from Caven though.”

  My throat feels dry and I rub it with my hand, my phone vibrating again on my thigh. “What was her name?”

  He cuts his eyes to me. “Oh, come on, Za. Don’t go trying to track the poor girl down. Ask Alex about it yourself.”

  I did, I don’t say.

  “Besides that, honestly, I don’t remember her name. I wasn’t at the party, just heard it through the grapevine, and you know that shit is crawling with bugs.”

  I flick my brows up, impressed with that metaphor. Jax is a smart dude.

  My phone buzzes again and I flip it back over, read Alex’s texts. He’s clearly drunk as fuck, because there are a lot of typos and question marks. That means I should probably stay far, far away, but…

  I never can resist making a damn scene.

  “What’s he want?” Jax asks me.

  “Wants me to come over.”

  A pause, and then, “Well, I’m going to bed soon. You wanna go? I’ll drive you.”

  I glance up at Jax, see his squinty eyes. He’s high as hell, but Eli and Alex’s house is like, a thirty minute walk from here, and I’m high as hell, too.

  “Yeah, but you got anything I can take before I go?”

  Jax narrows his brows, no doubt thinking about the offer he just made me. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

  I shrug. “No,” I say honestly, smiling. “But I’m sure they’re having a party and this conversation with you was kind of a buzzkill.”

  He laughs, shaking his head. “All right, give me a sec.” He stands to his feet and goes inside, and I tell Alex I’m on the way.

  I open up Eli’s text while I’m alone on Jax’s steps. All it says is, I want to see those scars, baby girl.

  22

  Zara

  I assumed considering Rihanna just died two weeks ago and her funeral was just last weekend, there wouldn’t be an abundance of her friends at Alex and Eli’s house.

  I thought wrong.

  The music is so fucking loud, I know no one would hear me knock, so I let myself inside. And as soon as I glance around, I see Eli Addison. Almost as if he’s waiting for me, and he’s positioned himself in the living room chair that faces the front door.

  He’s got a drink in his hand, and a girl on his lap.

  My body flushes hot with anger that I know is completely unwarranted. I came here for Alex. I can’t be mad.

  I shouldn’t be mad but I am. I stare at that girl for far longer than I should too.

  I know for a fact that she was friends with Rihanna. Her name is Kaitlyn or Ashley or something like that. And right now, she doesn’t seem to be thinking too much about her dead friend, the way she’s got her legs splayed over Eli’s lap as she smokes a joint, talking to another chick beside them on the couch.

  He has his hand on her thigh, and he lifts his cup up to his mouth, keeping his eyes on me.

  Before I can think about his text, about him, about how weird it is that we’re both here, someone touches my arm.

  I flinch, turning my head.

  Alex.

  “You came,” he says, sounding pretty damned surprised. And more sober than I thought he’d be, which is good.

  I swallow, push Eli from my mind even though I can feel his eyes on me as I look up at Alex.

  “You didn’t think I would?”

  Surprisingly, he looks nervous, and on a giant like Alex, it’s cute. He rubs his arm with the opposite hand, grinning, flashing that one dimple in his tan face. “Nah, I didn’t,” he admits. He swallows, looking down at the floor.

  I bump my hip against him, smiling. In the moment, a horrible thought occurs to me. I d
on’t know if I’m doing all of this for Eli’s reaction, or because I want to flirt with Alex. “You planning on flashing my tits again, Cardi?”

  He meets my gaze, arching a brow. “I mean, only if it’s in my room and we’re alone.”

  I bite my tongue, flicking my eyes up and down his body. He’s wearing black, fitted pants and a plain white tee. How such a simple outfit could look so damn sexy, I don’t know. This reminds me of when we first met. When I first fell for him. Before all the fighting and the shitty thing I did to ruin us.

  This is—dare I say it—fun.

  “I thought you needed space,” I remind him, but I keep my tone light. I don’t want to fight, and since he doesn’t really seem drunk, tonight could be peaceful between us.

  His jaw clenches and I see his hands curl into fists. I wonder if he’s thinking about Jamal. I wonder if I should’ve reminded him of my bullshit. I wonder what he’d think if he knew just two nights ago Eli fingered me in their pool.

  “I did,” he admits. “But this week, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, Zara. And after lunch yesterday I just I needed to see you again.”

  My heart skips a beat in my chest. I try to play it off. “You just wanna fuck me, huh?”

  This seems to settle him. He runs a hand through his thick hair and flashes me a lopsided smile. “If I’m allowed to.”

  I laugh a little. Force myself not to think about Eli. “Get me a drink and we’ll see.” I can’t tell if he’s already been drinking, but he doesn’t look messed up. Then again, I probably don’t either. Before I left Jax’s house, I used some eyedrops he had on hand, wiped away my smeared eyeliner—Jax told me I wear too much, I told him to shut the fuck up—and took a shot of vodka before I used Jax’s mouthwash.

  I’m just in skinny jeans and a cream-colored tank top, platform boots on my feet, but I know I look good.

  Not because my own eyes told me, but because Alex still seems nervous and I can feel Eli’s eyes on me.

  “Yes ma’am,” Alex tells me and turns to walk down the hall.

  But he holds out his hand.

  I glance at Eli before I take it.

  He’s still watching me, but his hand has moved further up the cheerleader’s thigh and she’s spread her legs wider on his lap. I wonder if she’d let him hold her underwater while he fingered her.

  Motherfucker.

  I take Alex’s hand as I stare right back at him.

  The kitchen is thankfully empty, but I’m shocked as shit to see people swimming in the pool past those sliding glass doors, like not shit happened just two weeks ago. Like a girl isn’t dead. Like her body wasn’t just floating at the bottom of that pool.

  Don’t think about it.

  “You okay?” Alex asks me and I realize I closed my eyes.

  I spring them open, pushing the memory of Rihanna away. I don’t know why it bothers me so much right now. I didn’t know her. I didn’t like what I knew about her. But for some reason it just pulls at me. Along with Alex’s word to her before she left the room with Eli. And Jax’s warning. Alex’s confession, “It was just a big mess, Za. It was just…a misunderstanding. I didn’t hurt anyone, okay?”

  “Yeah,” I answer Alex, forcing a fake smile on my face as I look at all the bottles of alcohol on the island in the kitchen. Try not to think about him shoving me against it. That tequila bottle. The cut between my lips. “What’re you gonna make for me?”

  He’s standing beside me and I realize he isn’t moving, his big ass hands resting on the marble of the island.

  I turn to look up at him.

  I don’t like what I see.

  Something that looks far too much like pity. It makes me squirm.

  “What?” I ask him, unable to help myself.

  His dark brown eyes soften, and this is the kindest look he’s ever directed toward me. I liked it better when he was being an asshole. I’m about to tell him so when he just says, “You found a dead body the morning after a wild party.” His tone is so straightforward, I don’t interrupt him even though I feel all itchy and hot and I’m dying to grab the closest bottle and start chugging it. “It’s okay to be weirded out by it.”

  I glance at the pool again. I see her again.

  I hear Eli behind me. “There’s a body in the pool, baby girl.”

  “Did you at least have it professionally cleaned?” I ask instead of mentioning any of that shit. Instead of thinking of Eli pushing me under in it or what we did together.

  I meet Alex’s gaze, but he’s still staring at me with a mixture of pity and something like desire. But for what? Why did he really invite me here? Is this where we have our pivotal relationship talk? Is this where I confide in him like I did Jax?

  I don’t want to do that.

  I’m here to get stupid drunk. Maybe piss Eli off. Or turn him on.

  I don’t want to bond with Alex over Rihanna’s dead body.

  Finally, he just shakes his head. “Yeah, we did. You want to get in again? I could help you out. Like last time.”

  I shoot him a glare.

  He holds up his hands, all innocence. “Okay, okay. You’re right. We’ll save it for later when you’re drunk and will definitely drown.”

  I just stare at him, equally horrified and amused. He really is a dick but that’s one of the things I like about him. I’m not exactly a good person, either. “I’m not sure if you’re joking or not.”

  He shrugs, slips his hands into his pockets. “Me neither.”

  I scoff, rolling my eyes. “Where’s your posse? Why are you alone right now? Aren’t there girls dying to suck your dick or dudes waiting for you to flash another girl’s tits so they can make a video? Why’d you have to invite your ex over, huh?” I turn away from him, not really wanting an answer, and grab a cup from the stack of them, flip it over and fill it with about two shots worth of tequila.

  At least, I think it’s two shots, but Alex whistles.

  Ignoring all my questions, he just says, “Careful, Zara. I think we’ve all learned the key to pool safety is staying sober.”

  “Too late for that,” I mutter, grabbing the seltzer water and pouring it in. When it fizzes to my satisfaction, I cap that shit and then hold the cup to my lips, turning to Alex.

  He meets my gaze.

  Something in his eyes makes me lower the cup. “What?”

  “What you said,” he muses, his eyes gleaming. I see the amber flecks in them again and I feel myself getting stupid from how hot he is. Why does he have to be so fine? Why are quarterbacks always hot anyway? It’s like some trick God pulled to make cocky athletes even cockier.

  And why do they always do bad shit?

  “About girls waiting to suck my dick,” he continues.

  I force myself to drink, even though I am interested in hearing where the hell he’s going with this. Did he just invite me back tonight to hurt me like I hurt him? Maybe this was all just a big setup and I was stupid enough to fall for it.

  “Would you mind?” he asks me.

  I nearly spit out the tequila in my mouth. But instead, I swallow, hard, blinking up at him. “Excuse me?”

  He shrugs. “If I went upstairs right now to get my dick sucked, would you mind?” His eyes flick upward with his words, and instead of immediately lashing out at him like I want to, I try to imagine it. He jerks his head back, indicating the pool. “There’s a pretty hot redhead out there right now that I know for a fact would jump at the chance.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. I know the redhead. Her name is Molly, and I know that she and Alex used to fuck around. But that was before me. “Be my fucking guest.”

  Who am I to stop him?

  I think about Eli’s fingers inside of me. About his hand on my scars.

  “I’m serious,” Alex says, interrupting my thoughts. “I gotta get off somehow, and you don’t have a good track record recently of helping me out.”

  My mouth drops open. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

  “Answer t
he question. Think about it if you have to.”

  I want to throw this cup in his face, just like I did two weeks ago in front of Dwight. I want to slap him. I want to tell him he’s an idiot, and that if he’s trying to make me jealous it’s fucking working.

  But maybe this was his roundabout way of working on us.

  So, I do what he said.

  I think about it.

  If he walked upstairs right now with Molly trailing after him, and she got down on her knees and wrapped her lips around his cock, would I care?

  Do I care that Rihanna’s friend is probably gonna do the same to Eli?

  I don’t know.

  Alex, though?

  Same answer.

  “I think the more important part of my question was about flashing girls’ tits, to be honest,” I tell him, avoiding telling him anything. I tip back my cup, finish the rest of the tequila and soda water. It’s not the best thing in the world but it’s not the worst either. I set my empty cup down and cross my arms, turning to stare at Alex.

  He leans against the island, cocking his head. “You don’t really seem that upset by it,” he says plainly.

  “That my tits are probably on everyone’s phone in this house right now?” I counter, shrugging. I see his jaw clench and it’s a little satisfying. “Not really.” That’s mostly true. Worse things have happened to college girls. Like ending up dead at the bottom of a pool.

  I hop up on the counter, feeling a little dizzy as the bottles slide behind me, dangerously close to the ledge.

  I cross my legs at the ankle, watching Alex. “But it seems to bother you, handsome.”

  I can tell he tries to fight it, but a small smile pulls on his lips. “Does it?”

  I roll my eyes, looking away from him for a moment. “Why’d you do it? Two weeks ago, you wanted to kill me, wanted to kick me out and be done with me. Then you needed space. Now you’re inviting me to your house, talking to me alone. What’s going on with us, Alex?”

  “Two weeks ago, I was fucking pissed at you.”

  I turn back to look at him. Before I left Jax’s house, Jax gave me MDMA. It usually takes about half an hour to kick in for me, and I wonder if that’s how long it’s been since I left his house because as I stare at Alex staring at me, I just want to taste him.