Then, spinning on my heels, I drop onto my couch and turn on the TV.For a few minutes, I scroll through Netflix, not really paying attention to any of it.I know for a fact that I scroll past ten different K-dramas IsworeI was going to watch earlier this week.
I shut it off, flipping the remote to the other side of the coach with a groan.
I pick up my phone.Drop it.Pick it up again.
I stare at the blank screen, wondering how this is my life.
Pocketing it, I start cleaning.A feverish, unhinged sort of cleaning—like if I scrub hard enough, I can erase the memory of Joel’s lips on mine.I wipe down the counters.I rearrange the spice rack.I stare at my couch, half convinced I can still smell him in the fabric.
I need him out of my system.
Except—
I don’t want him out of my system.
And that?That’sthe fucking problem.
I rake my hands through my hair, but it doesn’t help.I sit at my dining room table, but my leg won’t stop bouncing.I should shower—wash him off of me, scrub away the feeling of his hands on my skin, his lips against mine—but I know it won’t work.It’s under my skin now.Deep in my chest, pressing against my ribs like a live wire.I groan, dragging a hand down my face.I need a distraction.A sedative.A goddamn exorcism.
Besides, I’d probably just end up thinking about him in the shower, anyway.The sound of his…
Before I can stop myself, I pull my phone from my pocket and tap out a fevered message.
Hey.Want to hit Nocté with me?
The second I press send, I freeze.
What thefuckam I doing?
I stare at my phone like it just betrayed me.Like it sprouted hands and personally hit sendagainst my will.
Did I jump timelines?Black out?Have I finally lost my last shred of self-preservation?Because it feels like it.
I consider throwing my phone across the room, but knowing my luck, Lily would still manage to respond.Probably with some feral screaming.
No, no.This is fine.
I can just… take it back.Say it was a joke.A typo.A hostage situation.
I said I wouldn’t go.I told him flat out.Besides, I don’t do spontaneous.I don’t?—
My phone buzzes.
Lily: Wait.Wait.You WANT to go???
Lily: Like… willingly???
Lily: Not at gunpoint???
Lily: Anna, blink twice if you’re in danger.
I groan, my head thudding back against the couch.
Do you want to go or not?
Lily: OH HELL YES.
I exhale, something unraveling inside me, but not in the way I want.I feel shaky, restless.Like if I stop moving, I’ll start thinking.