My eyes slowly slid down.
My heart hamred against my ribs so hard it almost hurt. My breath was stuck until my gaze landed on his collarbone.
Just one look.
That was all I needed.
One stupid glance.
The curtains were half-drawn, letting in weak, grayish light that carved faint stripes across the bed.
My gaze traced the pale stretch of skin visible above his half-buttoned shirt.
His skin was smooth. More like Bare.
And... nothing. There was no freaking hickey.
I blinked once, no twice, confirming because maybe I wasn’t seeing right.
But no, there it was, his collarbone was clean without any mark or even a mini scratch.
Untouched.
No purple blotch, no ugly bruise blooming like the one I had seen in Caroline’s photos.
Relief and disappointnt slamd into so fast I almost swayed.
My lungs let out a shaky puff, a breath I had not realized I had been holding for what felt like forever.
He was clear. He was innocent. He was not the man in those pictures, as I suspected.
Maybe Dave had been right.
Maybe I was overthinking this, letting my paranoia chew holes in my brain.
But of course, my brain couldn’t just leave it alone. No, it just had to whisper the one thought that ruined everything.
What if he covered it?
The idea hit like cold water splashed over.
My chest tightened again, sharp and sudden.
Makeup. Concealer. Hell, that was easy to do.
I had done it myself on bad skin days. And Nicole?
He was too sharp, too calculated. It would not have been too hard to hide that hickey.
Also, if he was the culprit, then he would not have left sothing so obvious showing outrageously on his skin, right?
I stared harder and started to notice that the skin was too clean. Too smooth. Almost flawless.
I have known Dave for years, and even an actor like him would not have had such smooth and flawless skin unless he had put on so makeup.
His skin almost looked unreal in that dull light. The relief and disappointnt felt like they had crumbled, like a castle made of Legos.
I leaned in closer without even aning to, my nose barely a breath away from him now.
My eyes scanned the line of his collarbone, darting like little searchlights, looking for any weird patch, any difference in tone, even the faint dusting of powder.
Was that... a shadow? No, just the dip of his clavicle. My pulse quickened anyway.
Behind , Lily gave the gentlest tug at my skirt, her tiny voice brushing against the silence. "What you see?"
My heart jumped so high I nearly toppled. I forced myself to glance back at her, pasted on a thin smile as I shook my head, and mouthed: "Nothing."
But inside, I was crumbling. My nerves were one big frayed wire sparking at both ends.
What if I was wrong?
What if I dragged this poor kid into my paranoia for nothing?
What if Nicole woke up and found hovering over him like so creep scanning his neckline for clues?
Back away, Elena. Now.
I drew in a shaky breath and started to lean back. One inch. Two.
My sweaty hand found the cold tal of the doorknob.
Just twist, open, and get out. Nobody had to know.
But then, because fate hated , Nicole shifted.
Just a small roll of his shoulder, the fabric of his shirt sliding lower to reveal a little more skin.
And oh God.
My brain imdiately shrieked: What if the mark is lower? Just a little further down? Hidden under the shirt?
I could’ve scread at myself. Stop. Stop being an insane freak.
But the thought was there now, pulsing, demanding, clawing at to check one more ti.
I peeked again, leaning just a fraction closer. His collar dipped just enough to tease with the idea of answers, but still, nothing. Just flawless, infuriatingly clean skin.
Fine. Enough. Really, truly enough this ti. I couldn’t keep hovering like a lunatic.
I swallowed hard, turned back to the door, and twisted the knob. My palm was slick with sweat. Just push, Elena. Just push and leave.
Then it happened.
"Wanna tell why you were so eager to watch sleep?"
The word split the silence like a blade, sharp and impossible to ignore.
I froze. Completely froze, like my body had turned to stone.
It wasn’t Lily. It wasn’t muttering to myself.
It was him.
Nicole. He was awake.
My heart stopped and then tried to restart at triple speed. Slowly, and when I say slowly, it was painfully slow, I turned back toward the bed.
He was propped up now, leaning casually on one elbow.
His hair was ssy curtain falling over his forehead.
His voice had been low, rough with sleep, but his eyes...God, his eyes were way too sharp for soone who had just woken up.
And they were locked right on .
I wanted to lt into the floor.
That stare was heavy, unreadable. Suspicious.
He wasn’t demanding answers yet, but he didn’t need to.
Just the weight of his gaze was enough to make feel like every one of my secrets had already spilled out onto the sheets in front of him.
Lily clung tighter to my skirt, wide-eyed but calm, like she’d been caught peeking into cookie jars before, and this was no different.
? I was dying. My brain scrambled like eggs in a too-hot pan.
Say sothing, Elena.
Anything. Normal. Casual.
Now.
"I want to talk about Caroline." I blurted out without giving a second thought.
The words hit the air like a rock dropped into still water.
His smirk froze and then vanished. Just like that. Gone.
It wasn’t a slow fade either. One second, it was plastered on his face, smug and mocking; the next, it was erased, replaced by his cold and sharp facade.
Holy Jesus, did I just hit the right spot?
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