Collide (Collide, #1)(42)

“Did you? That’s awesome, babe. Where is it?”

“It’s in Brooklyn.” She thought for a second. “Bush something. I have to look at what I wrote down. I have an interview on Monday.”

“Bushwick?

“Yes, that’s the name.” She smiled, reaching for a piece of popcorn on the end table.

“Em, you can’t take a job out there. It’s not safe.”

“Dillon, I’ll be fine.”

“No, Emily, I’m telling you—you’re not taking the job out there. Send some more resumes out and wait for something else,” he replied with finality in his voice.

“Are you being for real?”

“Babe, I’m just looking out for you. It’s not a good neighborhood,” he answered, pressing his mouth against her forehead. “You’ll wait for something else. Besides, we’ve already been over this—if you need money, I’ll give it to you.”

“It’s not that, Dillon. I’ve waited long enough, and I want something lined up for this coming school year.”

Before he could say anything further, the door swung open. Olivia walked in with her purse swinging cheerfully from her arm. She rolled her eyes in Dillon’s direction while making a gagging sound from her throat.

“Ollie, tell my girlfriend how bad Bushwick is.”

Emily waited for Olivia’s response, but it never came. She effectively ignored Dillon’s request, kicked off her shoes, and took a seat on one of the plush recliners.

“Hey, friend,” Olivia said to Emily, a beaming smile working over her lips. “How was your day?”

“Uh, my day was good,” Emily replied, unable to keep the slight laughter out of her voice. “But can you answer Dillon’s question? I’m interested in hearing about this bad-ass neighborhood.”

Still not answering, Olivia looked away as she studied the chipped pink polish on her nails.

“Liv, can you answer his question?” Emily asked with her brows now furrowed.

Olivia’s brown eyes narrowed like a snake on Dillon. “Sorry, Em, I don’t talk to *s who jockey off their sperm, sowing their wild oats to any slut who’ll give them a blowjob behind my friend’s back,” she hissed, the words rolling off her tongue like a melted piece of ice.

Emily nearly choked, swallowing down a piece of popcorn. She felt Dillon’s body go rigid against hers right before he rose from the couch.

He shot Olivia a searing look, but his voice remained eerily calm. “Fuck off, you stupid dyke.”

Olivia plastered a smile over her gritted teeth. “Oh, that was seriously original,” she replied, her voice undaunted by his insult as she clapped her hands slowly.

“Oh my God, Dillon, how could you say that?” Emily looked to him in shock.

“Fuck her.” He casually walked across the room to the kitchen and reached into the refrigerator.

“No, honestly, f*ck you, Dickhead!” Olivia spewed.

“Holy shit, would you two just stop?!”

“I’ll stop when you see the fake overcoat of charm he wears in front of you, Emily! He’s f*cking around behind your back, and you’re oblivious to it!” Olivia stood up and wagged her finger in Dillon’s direction. “But, for now, he’s in my f*cking house, so he can take it or get the f*ck out!”

Dillon plucked his shirt from the couch, tossed it over his head, and dug his keys from his pocket.

“Dillon, wait!” Emily let out, crossing the room to go after him.

“Fuck that stupid bitch! I’ll call you later!”

He threw the door open and slammed it closed with a thundering force.

Emily stayed rooted to her spot in his wake. Her head fogged as she tried to process everything that had just happened. She spun her body around and glared at Olivia.

“You promised you wouldn’t say anything!” she spat, hot tears springing to her eyes as she moved across the room.

“Well, you know what, Em? I couldn’t help myself when I saw you cozying up to him like he did nothing!” Emily opened her mouth to speak, but Olivia cut her off. “And, not for nothing, friend, if you didn’t think it was true somewhere in that brain of yours, you would’ve never kissed Gavin,” she snarled, letting her words cut straight through Emily’s heart.

Emily inhaled, trying to quell the sudden urge to punch her square in the face. “You’re truly f*cked up,” she said in a surprisingly calm tone—one that even threw Olivia off guard. “How could you say that to me, knowing what I’ve been through all week?”

“I didn’t mean it that way,” Olivia replied, cautiously moving toward her. “I just think you’re in denial, Em. I think that you’re in denial about the way Dillon treats you, and I think you’re seriously in denial that you don’t feel something—even the littlest bit of something—for Gavin.”

A wounded cry escaped her throat. “I’m not in denial, Olivia. I love Dillon, and I believe him. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” Emily turned and walked toward her bedroom, stopping at her door. “I didn’t see the whole kiss. I saw exactly what Dillon said I did. That skank pulled him into her, and I turned around before he backed away. The only reason why I kissed Gavin was because I didn’t see the whole thing. I was mad. My emotions got the better of me when we got back here. That’s all—it’s nothing more.”