Erica
“Where. Were. You?”
He stepped back from me and replied coolly, “It’s none of your fûcking business.”
I slapped him. I didn’t stop to think. I should have. But I was too furious to consider my actions, to think twice. I was hurting. Fûck. My chest ached like he had just slammed a fist there. And I didn’t even regret it a moment later when my cheek burned from his palm as he reciprocated in the same way.
We stood there, glaring at each other. At last, he said, “I told you again and again, not to cross this line with me.”
“I hate you.”
He remained silent and looked at me like I was crazy. But my chest burned with something close to betrayal. I shouldn’t be surprised after the way he had been with the women at the party the other night but I had believed him when he had said that
