ELII'm in my room, door locked, heart trying to punch through my ribcage.I can hear them downstairs. Olandria's laugh—bright and easy. Nick's lower voice responding to something she said. Normal. Domestic. Like he wasn't just buried inside me an hour ago.I press my back against the door and try to breathe.My skin still smells like him. Like us. Sweat and sex and guilt.I peel off my clothes—his shirt that I'd thrown on in the panic—and stumble to the bathroom. Turn the shower as hot as it'll go and step under the spray.The water beats down on my shoulders and I scrub. Hard. Trying to wash away the evidence, the scent, the feeling of his hands on my body. But I don't want to wash it away. That's the fucked up part. I want to crawl back into his bed and stay there.I hear footsteps in the hallway. Olandria's voice, muffled through the door. "Eli? You in there?"My stomach drops. "Yeah! Just showering!""Okay! We're gonna start a movie when you're done. I'm making popcorn!""Sounds
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