The rest of her clothes come off, and Ella stands naked by the door of my room. I stalk across the too-small space and grab a clean towel out of the bathroom, then return to her. “Dry yourself off.”
She follows orders with a sullen set to her chin. Ella’s got a lot of nerve to be pissed at me in this moment. Like it’s my fault that she threw herself into a pool on a cold night. Like it’s my fault she threw herself at her ex-boyfriend.
Ella hands me the towel with that same tension in her chin.
Handing out the spare shirt and boxers, I tell her, “Put these on.”
When she’s pulling the clothes on, I sling her coat over the radiator.
I turn back to find her looking at me, her eyes huge and questioning and pissed. “What am I here for, Z?”
“You know why we’re here.”
“Why don’t you just drop me off at home and leave me?”
“Leave you?” The incredulity is palpable.
“You don’t want me. I know you don’t.”
With a deep, steadying breath, I dare her to call me a liar. “I want you more than I want anything, Eleanor.”
My words bring her lips to part and a shuddering breath leaves her. I close the space between us, splaying my hand against her back. “The fact that you question that at all tells me I failed you. But my little bird, you are here because it’s time for a punishment that I don’t want anyone to see. I intend to fuck you into the early morning, and it’s only for us. Everyone else needs to get the fuck out of what we are until you know damn well that you’re mine.”
Her breathing picks up, her chest rising and falling chaotically and her beautiful gaze caught in mine. My heart beats wildly, knowing that look and that need. Knowing this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.
“Z,” she whispers.
“You need someone to fuck the wild out of you,” I growl, and it’s wrong. I know it the second I say it. Ella’s eyes fly open, her lips part, and the shock on her face tells me I’ve screwed this up. I’ve stumbled over a hidden pain I didn’t know existed.
As she pushes me away, my phone goes off.
I ignore it. “You okay?” I question her as she crosses her arms and moves toward the bathroom, everything changed. Something’s wrong.
She nods, but doesn’t speak it.
“Ella,” I start and my phone goes off again. Again I ignore it.
“Ella, look at me,” I command her and she does as she’s told, her wide eyes staring back at me. “Are you all right?” I question, already knowing she’s not.
My phone rings in my pocket and I reach for it without thinking. “What?” I snap into the phone.
“We have a problem,” Damon says. “There are photos of you and Ella at the party and—”
“I need tonight, Damon,” I cut him off.
I turn my body away from her, as if that will give me any privacy. As if it will stop her from hearing this conversation. “We need a moment. We can talk—”
“Photos of you two. At the party. They’re on social media. There’s a story already posted. Several outlets are picking it up. She’s not nobody, Zander. What happened? You need to tell me what happened so I can figure it out.” Damon’s worry amplifies a different concern, one I wish had waited.
Wood knocks against wood, and I whirl around to find the space by the door empty, the door banging against the frame.
Fuck! I run out of the room, dropping my phone and race to the end of the hall. I could have gone left or right, I chose left and I chose wrong. With no one there I race to the other side and find that empty too.
“Ella!” I cry out, desperate for her to come back. Fuck.Fuck. “Ella!”
* * *
Ella