Ruin Me Gently

Chapter Five

Scarlet POV

I open the door, and Zain walks in. He watches as I yank off my dress and throw it across the room without caring where it lands.

“Tonight was stupid. I knew I shouldn’t have. I just had this feeling that I shouldn’t sleep with him, and guess what, I was right.”

He sits back on the bed, kicking his shoes off like he owns the place. “Look, you need to just rip off the band-aid and do it.”

My eyes widen, my hands frozen where they were trying to peel off the satin lingerie that now feels like a joke. “With Jacob? Really?”

“Hell no, darling.” He rubs his face, scrubbing his palms hard over his eyes like he is trying to wipe away the whole night. “Look, it’s late. I’m ending this party. Let’s talk in the morning, right?”

Nodding, I move over and hug him, letting myself sink into the familiar comfort of his arms for a second longer than usual. He gives me a squeeze before pulling back and heading for the door. I watch him leave, the click of the door sounding louder than it should in the sudden quiet.

Lying back on the bed, I stare up at the ceiling. I can hear the door opening and closing, people leaving, the party dying a slow, awkward death.

I know I should get up and help clean the mess, but I can’t do it. I'm not ready to face people, not even Zain. He warned me about Jacob, he never said “I told you so,” but it feels like he should have. I feel it hanging there in the air between us, unspoken but heavy.

At some point, I must fall asleep. When I wake up, it is dark, the house silent, and my mouth feels like it has been stuffed with cotton. The alcohol from earlier sits like a rock in my stomach. Normally, I would drink water after a night like this, force myself to avoid the hangover, but tonight I just hid away and ignored everything.

Climbing out of bed, I pull on my robe, wrapping it tight around me, and shuffle toward the kitchen. The tile floor is cold against my bare feet. Swinging open the fridge, I grab a bottle of water, uncapping it quickly and drinking half of it down in a few desperate gulps.

When I set the bottle down, I notice my phone sitting on the counter. I grab it, the screen lighting up as soon as I unlock it.

Jacob:

Can we talk?

If I had known you were ready, I wouldn’t have been near another woman.

You have to understand, I waited, but expecting me to not have s*x for six months is stupid.

Can you stop ignoring me?

Goddamnit Scarlet, we’re not kids, you’re twenty-five, grow up and answer me.

Forget it, I tried to fix it you didn’t care. Die a virgin, have fun.

At this point, I turn off the screen and place the phone down on the counter like it is something dirty I don’t want to touch anymore. I want to shower. I want to wash off tonight. Wash off the thought of Jacob ever touching me.

I scoop up the water bottle again and take another long drink, trying to rinse the sour taste out of my mouth, but it does nothing to wash away the knot of emotions twisting tighter inside me. My skin feels wrong, too tight, like I need to scrub the whole night off me.

The thought of a hot shower is too tempting to ignore.

Wrapping the robe tighter around me, I pad quietly down the hallway toward the bathroom. The house is so still now, the soft creak of the floorboards under my feet sounding way too loud. I rub at my tired eyes as I reach for the bathroom door, not thinking much beyond the desperate need to feel clean.

I twist the handle and push it open.

Steam rushes out, warm and heavy, but it’s the low sounds that make me stop cold. The soft thud of bodies against the tile, the breathy moans, the wet slap of skin against skin. My brain short circuits for a second before my eyes catch up to what I’m hearing.

Zain is there, his hands braced against the shower wall, his head tipped back, mouth open in a silent moan. Liam is behind him, close, too close, his body moving in a rhythm that makes my stomach flip and my face burn all at once.

I freeze, my whole body locking up, a hand still clinging stupidly to the doorframe. I know I should close the door and run, I know I shouldn’t even be looking, but I can’t seem to make myself move. I’ve seen them kiss, hold hands, laugh into each other’s mouths, but never anything like this. Never anything so raw and real.

Worse than freezing, worse than staring, is the slow, dark heat curling low in my stomach, the way my thighs press together instinctively before I can even think about it. I’m turned on.

The realization hits me like a slap. Shame floods through me so hard my face goes hot and my hands start to shake. I tear my gaze away, shut the door shut as quietly as I can, and stumble back, heart hammering against my ribs.

They didn’t notice. Thank God.

I back down the hallway like I’m escaping something dangerous, like the steam itself might choke me if I stay too long. My brain is a mess, thoughts tangled and spinning until I can’t even catch hold of one properly.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I never reacted to them before. Not once. I never even thought about it. It was Zain and Liam, my best friend and his boyfriend, something pure and happy and safe. But now, after tonight, after everything falling apart with Jacob, my whole body feels like it’s betraying me.

I rush into my bedroom and slam the door, pressing my back against it like I’m afraid someone might follow. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely grab onto the bedpost as I lower myself onto the edge of the mattress.

Everything inside me feels wrong. Tight. Messy in a way that has nothing to do with Jacob and everything to do with what I just saw and how I reacted.

Tonight just keeps getting worse.

It is nothing, right? It has to be. It’s just my brain reacting to what they were doing, not them specifically. I have seen Zain naked before and never reacted. Not once. So it has to be what they were doing, the act itself, not the people involved. That is the only explanation that makes any sense.

Tomorrow, I will be around them both as normal, and I know I won’t feel anything. I will act like tonight never happened, like I didn’t freeze in the hallway like a complete pervert.

Lying back on the bed, I stare at the ceiling. My life is a nightmare. That is the only thought that stays with me as I finally fall asleep.

Movement drags me from sleep, and when I open my eyes, Zain is leaning over me, smirking so much it makes me want to throw a pillow at his stupidly happy face.

“Say it, go on,” I mutter, knowing exactly what he is about to say.

He grins wider, like the cat that got the cream. “We’re talking, come on, get your *ss up, it’s midday, food and talk.”

Before I can even groan, he is off the bed and strutting out of the room like he is working a runway. Rubbing at my face, I drag myself up and shuffle toward the kitchen, not ready for whatever speech he has prepared.