Unthinkable (Unstoppable 2)

Fuck.

When my gaze collided with the mirrored glass that ran the width of the wall above the vanity, there was no avoiding my reflection.

Hair tousled, eyes bright and gleaming, cheeks flushed pink… and wearing the expression of someone who knew they were well and truly fucked, and not just literally.

The girl staring back at me in the mirror was in love with Leon Bradshaw.

The girl on this side of the glass. She was too.

And we were both so scared of where that love would lead us. What it would do to us. What we’d become as a result of it.

A different scene reflected back at me; a woman on her knees begging the man she loved to stay. It was an image I’d never forget. It was just one fucking snapshot. And yet it was so hard to see past it.

The knob jiggled behind me, and I whirled round, swiping my hair behind my ears as I inhaled a deep breath and unlocked the door.

The person on the other side was a foot shorter and decidedly more female than the one I’d expected.

Ashley’s eyes narrowed as they trailed over my face, then peered around me. Satisfaction flashed in her gaze when she found the room empty. Her gloss-coated lips twitched up into a tight smirk as she folded her arms across her chest and shouldered past me.

“You missed a lot when you were down in Florida, Elsa,” she muttered as she made her way to the vanity and set her black purse down on top of it.

I turned and settled against the doorjamb as she opened her purse and rooted inside before taking out a tube of gloss. Dabbing at her lips, she glanced at me through the glass.

“I didn’t go to college,” she said, smacking her lips together.

I smoothed mine into a flat line. “I didn’t ask.”

Her freshly applied gloss gleamed as a saccharine smile stretched her face. “I’ve been right here the whole time. Working in my mom’s nail salon. I’m a nail technician.” She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers.

“Why don’t you just cut straight to the good part? We both know you didn’t barge in here to tell me about your shitty nails.”

She tipped up a shoulder. “Just thought I’d warn you before you get hurt. I’ve been keeping Leon company this past year. Since we were fifteen, actually. It’s always my bed he ends up in.” She plopped the gloss back into her purse and spun to face me. “Just a friendly heads-up. I’d hate for you to get your heart broken.”

I fought to stop my fists from clenching, sliding them across my chest and under my arms instead. “That’s sweet, Ashley,” I muttered, “but there’s no need to worry about my heart. I’m only fucking him.”

The words trailed like slime, sticking to the walls of my throat, almost refusing to come up. I’d cheapened him, me… us… with one stupid sentence. And I hated myself for it.

Her blue eyes widened, then narrowed to slits. “He’s using you.”

“And what? You think I want to marry the guy?” I wagged my head, hating every word falling from my lips yet powerless to stop them. “Maybe I’m the one using him. The real question, though… is why does he even need me when you’re so readily available?”

Her lips opened and closed, before she straightened and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not a ball and chain around his ankle. I let him play. That’s why he always comes back. Just think on that.”

She flounced out of the room before I could offer a retort, and for the first time, I wasn’t sure I had one. Somewhere deep down, I knew I shouldn’t let her words poison my mind, shouldn’t let them distort the way I viewed Leon, everything he’d shown me about the person he really was, but they triggered a fear so deep-rooted, I couldn’t stop them from sinking into me like barbed tentacles.

I couldn’t be the woman who allowed the man she loved to roam to keep him.

I couldn’t share his love, his affection, his body.

I couldn’t beg at his feet for scraps of attention or wait in the wings for a moment of his time when another, more exciting, plaything came along.

I didn’t work like that. I’d never work like that.

My feet carried me from the bathroom, down the hall and down the stairs, past Riley in the cluttered kitchen. She called my name, and I ignored her, pushing through the mass of bodies with my chest caving and my stomach sinking. Tears burned behind my eyes as I rounded the corner toward the gate.

Footsteps sounded behind me and a firm hand closed around my upper arm as I slipped into the shadows at the side of the house, my escape just out of reach.

Leon pulled me round and fastened his free hand around my other bicep, easing me closer. “What’s going on, Lissa?” His chest puffed up and down, like he’d been running. Like he’d chased after me.