Collide (Collide #1)(94)

Emily nodded.

"So you were pretty hammered last night."

She reached down for the shampoo and bit her lip. "Yeah, I was."

"What did you do last night, Emily?" His voice hardened just enough to send a shiver up her spine.

Attempting to catch her breath, she turned to face him. "Wha...what do you mean?"

With his eyes intent on hers, he slowly lifted a hand and brushed his thumb across her chin. "You lied to me," he finally stated softly.

Heart ricocheting in her chest, Emily shook her head, appearing to struggle against her tears. "I...I didn't lie to you about anything."

He took the shampoo from her, poured some into his hands, and lathered it up. Eyes still locked on hers, he gathered her hair and started washing it. "I ran into Gavin last night when I walked in."

Trying to hide the panic she knew crossed her features and wanting to drown, choke, gasp, or maybe even die right there in that shower, Emily stared back at him, unable to form a sentence. A knot formed in her throat, threatening to cut off all oxygen.

"He told me you girls didn't go to Pink."

Swallowing down said knot, oxygen silently whooshed back into her lungs. "Oh," she said breathlessly. "Umm, yeah, we decided to go to a party at someone's house that Fallon knows."

"Right, you lied."

"I didn't lie, Dillon," she whispered, rinsing the shampoo from her hair, knowing she was harboring a far greater lie. "It was a last minute change in plans. That's all."

Pulling her body against his, he ghosted his mouth down the curve of her jaw. "Okay, last minute change of plans that I wasn't made aware of." He circled his arms around her waist. "What if I'd gone to Pink, Emily? I would've been left thinking something happened to you."

"You're right," she conceded. It was the least she could do, considering...well, considering everything. She knew he could've easily made a quick phone call to check on her, but she wasn't about to push her luck. "I should've called you. I had too much to drink, and honestly, I didn't think about it. I'm sorry; next time I'll call."

Appearing satisfied with her answer, he handed her the soap and turned around, placing his hands on the tile. "Can you wash my back?" Lathering up the soap, she did as he asked. "I'm not sure there will be a next time - you hanging out with that freak again."

"But, Dillon, she..."

"Look, I'm not in the mood to argue with you, Emily. I've never seen you so out of it before. I tried to wake you up, but you wouldn't budge." He tilted his neck from side to side and rolled his shoulders. "There was a point I honestly thought you had alcohol poisoning until you finally mumbled something. It leads me to believe that she's obviously not a good influence on you. End of story. You're not hanging out with her again."

At a loss for words, she stilled her hands from washing him.

Turning around, Dillon gently pulled her head back by her hair and branded his lips against hers. He couldn't see them, but silent tears trickled down her cheeks amid the water that flowed over her face. Today - in these moments and seconds - she wouldn't protest his ridiculous words. She couldn't. It wasn't in her. She barely had any fight left - not after the self-destructive stunt she pulled less than twelve hours ago with his friend. When Dillon began to make love to her, it wasn't just his hands that were present on her flesh. The guilt slid over her skin, manifesting itself inside her like a disease. Now she would use the last remaining fight she had left to avoid the overwhelming sense of shame threatening to swallow her whole.