Make Me Sin

56

“There’s a lot I don’t know.”

Kat reaches across the table and takes my hand. “I know this might sound hypocritical coming from me after all I went through to be with Nico, but I’m saying it again: please be careful. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“That’s the thing.” I clear my throat, give her hand a squeeze, sit back in my chair. “I’m pretty sure I will. Especially since he flat out told me he’d hurt me. But I don’t care. I still want him.”

Grace’s stare slices a hole through my head. “This is crazy. You’re volunteering to get hurt? Do you hear yourself right now? You’re too smart to sign up for that, Chloe!”

She’s really pissed. Her face has flushed, her eyes glitter. I know it’s because she loves me. And I know she’ll be there for me at the tail end of whatever sad story I’m about to create for myself by falling for a man who’s told me in no uncertain terms he’s bad news.

“I love you guys,” I say softly. “And I know you love me. So what I’m going to need from you is a soft place to fall if and when this thing with A.J. goes sideways. Because I can already tell it’s going to hurt like hell.”

Kat and Grace look at each other in silence while I finish the rest of my soup.

When the knock comes on my front door just before ten, I’m ready. I’ve got the whole speech rehearsed.

What I’m not prepared for is the state Eric’s in when he arrives.

He reeks of beer. His face is grim and unshaven. His eyes are bloodshot, and the look in them is anything but friendly. My nerves instantly slam into high alert.

Without a word, he pushes past me into the apartment. Alarmed, I watch as he paces circles around the living room. I close the door and go and stand with my arms crossed over my chest in the kitchen, watching him.

“Eric. What are you doing?”

“I know you’re going to tell me it’s over. I could tell by the tone of your voice on the phone.” He laughs without humor. “I already knew anyway. I knew it was over the first time that piece of s**t’s name left your lips.”

Hearing him call A.J. that makes me so angry I want to grab a plate from the cabinet and hurl it at his head. But that would be foolish, along with nonproductive. All I really want right now is for him to leave without making a scene. “I can see this isn’t going to be a mature discussion. Why don’t we just try not to say anything nasty, say our good-byes, and call it a night.”

He stops pacing and looks at me with such burning anger, I take a step back, hand at my throat.

“You want a mature discussion, Chloe? Okay, how about this: break it off with him and get back together with me, or I’ll make it my personal mission to ruin his life.”

My blood turns to ice water. Stunned, I stare at him. “You don’t mean that.”

He says slowly, “Look at my face, Chloe.”

I am, and it’s scaring the hell out of me. Who is this man? I’ve never seen this side of Eric, and I have no idea how to handle him. I edge away from the counter, trying to put distance between us. “I told you before, I’m not together with him.”

Eric moves closer, his gaze level, and so very dark. “You know what I used to love most about you, Chloe? You never lied. You weren’t that kind of person. But you’ve changed, and I know what made you change. I know who.”

“I think you need to leave now.”

“Oh, is that what you think? Because I think you should get down on your knees and do something to convince me not to make his life a living hell.” His hand drops to the fly of his trousers. A bitter little smile disfigures his mouth.

I’m so afraid I begin to shake. Though his tone is calm, the malice and madness glittering in his eyes make him look totally unhinged. My heart pounding, I walk slowly backward, heading toward the front door. “You’re drunk. This isn’t you, Eric. I know you—”

“This is what you’ve made me,” he hisses, following as I retreat. “I love you, Chloe. We’re good together. We fit. Until you decided to take a detour down w***e alley, everything was perfect. I’m willing to forgive and forget, but you have to earn my trust back. And you’re going to start by getting down on your f*****g knees and begging me to forgive you.”

He unzips his pants and pulls out his erection.

I don’t know where it comes from, but the outrage that blasts through my veins is like electricity, sizzling hot and blazing, lighting me up from inside. I stand up straight, walk to the front door, yank it open, turn back to Eric and shout, “Get the hell out of my house!”

At that moment, my upstairs neighbor walks down the stairs. She’s an older woman, single, recently divorced, the one who pounds on the wall if I’m too noisy. I’ve always thought she disliked me, and she takes the opportunity to prove it.

She takes one look at me standing in the doorway, and says, “You know, if you’re going to keep having screaming orgasms every night at two a.m., you might want to buy the rest of the building some earplugs.” She sends me an evil smile, then turns and continues on her way.