His expression remains stony. “How was the date?” I can’t even meet his eyes. I know things he wouldn’t want me to, and I feel guilty for that. And most of all I feel guilty for something I haven’t done yet. I realize I haven’t even answered the question. “It was…nice.” “Nice?” I unlock my door, but don’t open it. The silence weighs heavy between us. “Yeah, nice.” If he was sober when Vincenzo was texting me, I don’t think he is now. He’s standing behind me, close enough that his chest kisses my back each time he inhales. “He didn’t deserve it.” My shoulders tense. “The date?” “That dress.” I
...more
Omggg
