Offensive Behavior

Eyes straight to his. “You ask me that when you had your tongue down another woman’s throat.”

She’d seen. But it was seconds, only seconds. And maybe it didn’t matter. “Did you fuck that guy?”

“I cannot believe you’d ask me that.”

“You have a history.”

Her whole body tensed. “I’m a slutty stripper, right? Because dancing and turning tricks are all the same. I knew you were too good to be true.”

She went to plough past him and he roared at her. “Did you fuck him?”

“Did you fuck her?”

The question shocked, zinged around his head. “No. Of course not.” It was late, it was quiet but they didn’t have the street to themselves. They were having a raging argument in public. If she fucking used tears against him he wasn’t walking away.

“Why not, clearly I’m not enough? I’m sure if you went back, hell, you don’t even need to go back. Women are attracted to you, they look at you all the time, Reid, you’re too lacking in self-awareness to notice.”

“You slept with that guy to win.”

“Oh my God, how could I be so wrong about you?” She pushed him, he stood his ground. He’d get his answer. She pushed him again and he gave way because that was using his size against her and he wanted a fair fight.

She strode down the street and he followed, letting her stay ahead. Letting the head of steam he’d built up solidify into something new. Terror. If she fucked that guy did it mean they were over, did it have to mean that, could he forgive her? Did he want more with Marja, just to know what it was like with a woman who wasn’t Zarley? Fuck, fuck, he had no answers. He was better off alone because this, the not knowing, the ripping cut of jealousy so savage he’d stopped in the middle of the street, was going to eat him alive.

“Zarley, I’m dying here. I have to know what you did.”

She reeled around to face him. “I don’t report to you. I don’t need your permission or approval. Stupid me for thinking we’d agreed that.”

“You shut me out. You left me alone.”

She smacked a hand into his chest. “Are you a freaking teenager? I was working. What’s wrong with you that you couldn’t see that? That you had to, I don’t know, retaliate, by putting your hands all over another woman and your tongue down her throat.”

“I didn’t.”

“You fucking kissed her, felt her up. I saw you.”

“Jesus. She, she came on to me and I thought you, you . . . it was only a second.”

“Look at me.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes. He loved her. He’d forgive her anything. He’d fucked it up.

“Do you honestly think any of that matters?”

Why didn’t he simply shut Marja down? Why didn’t he walk away? What the fuck was wrong with him? “Zarley.” He reached for her.

She jumped back about five countries. He was in France and she was in Romania. He would never reach her.

She hefted her bag. “Asshole.” She spun around and walked on.

He called after her. “The only asshole you’re taking home tonight.”

She stopped walking. He wanted to eat those words, spin the planet backward, summon starships to snatch them back and lock them in a ziggurat where they’d never be heard.

It was worse she didn’t reply. Didn’t come for him and take his eyes out. She simply lowered her shoulders and walked on.

They were only a block from the apartment. He hung back. All he’d seen was an arm around her shoulder. All he’d seen was Zarley working. And she’d seen him act like he had no control, like he didn’t understand what he’d found with her and he couldn’t be trusted.

She’d stood by him, known how to reach him at the anniversary event, but he hadn’t been able to do the same for her. He kept making the same mistakes over and over again and if it wasn’t enough to lose Plus, he was going to lose Zarley too.