Cousins(10)

But really none of that matters. Elizabeth is a sheltered suburban girl. For all I know this guy was her first love or some shit. And to make it worse, I'm worried that she may actually consider going back to him, because I scared the hell out of her when I fucked her brains out in my living room.

He better not touch her.

I swear to God he better not touch her.

I have to find her.

Then I have to fix this.





CHAPTER FOUR

ELIZABETH





"Hey Bitsy."

I'm sitting on an elegant leather backed stool; at the nicest hotel bar that I've probably ever been in with my eyes dramatically wide open. They are huge and unblinking. Much like the ones you see on the face of a Japanese Manga character. Ethan is the last person I expected to see in the Bahamas. No, scratch that. He's the last person I expected to see again ever.

He looks different. His clothes are well put together as usual, and he looks fit and healthy, but his eyes and the creases around his mouth tell me something different. Like he's been through something and that he's trying very hard to put up a front for me right now. A pretense that would have probably worked a couple of months ago, but one that I won't easily fall for ever again.

"You look amazing." He says way too casually to me. Like we're simply old friends catching up. As if he doesn't owe me a very detailed apology at the very least.

I stare at him dumbfounded. Struggling for the words that would be appropriate right now. I kind of just want to slap him.

"Say something Elizabeth."

"What do you want me to say?" I ask. Now that the initial shock is wearing off, my latent anger is beginning to step forward.

"I know you're probably pissed at me, but all I'm asking is that you hear me out."

Really?!

"You really want to do this now Ethan? Here?"

"Actually no. I’d rather do this in my room where we can have some privacy. I have a lot to say. A lot to explain."

"Your room? Absolutely frackin' not." My voice rising higher.

He smiles uneasily.

"Ok so then where? Your room?"

The bartender places a fresh glass of sangria in front of me, quickly glances between the two of us, then walks away to take an order from another patron. Ethan places a twenty-dollar bill on the counter and takes a sip of the beer he is already holding in his hand.

"What about my drink?" I ask.

"Bring it with you to the room."

I forgot that I can easily bring my drink or anything else I decide to buy inside the hotel to my room, but that isn't really the point. I need to think straight if I am going to have a conversation with this big fat liar. I also need to ask myself why I am even entertaining the possibility of having a conversation with a guy that left me dead (for all he knew) on the floor of my apartment. What kind of man does that? Definitely not one that I ever want anything to do with again.

"I'm not sure that there is anything you can say that will change my opinion of what an ass you are Ethan."

"I'm not trying to convince you that I'm not an ass, Bitsy. I am one. I just want to plead my case."

"Plead it for what then?"

"Your forgiveness."

I stare Ethan square in the eyes after he says the word forgiveness. I'm not an expert on human psychology or body language, so I can't say for sure whether or not he is lying to me; although my gut is telling me that he's trying too hard. I don't know if I read sincerity in his facial expressions or desperation.

I take a long swallow of my sangria, so that I can think carefully about what I'm going to say next. I'm not sure why, but suddenly Roman's face pops inside my head, and I take another sip of my drink to shake it loose.

His opinion doesn't matter Elizabeth. This is your fight.

"I will give you ten minutes, Ethan. That's it."

I rise from my stool, smooth my skirt, and start walking. I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I make sure to walk very slowly and carefully in my heels to the elevator, one foot in front of the other, so that Ethan has a very clear view of everything he's cast aside.

When I was with Ethan, I did everything I could to camouflage the size of my hips and butt with baggy sweats or loose flowing dresses. I'd always known that while he found me attractive, he never especially cared for my figure. I didn't always feel sexy around him. But since I've been sleeping with Roman, I have to admit, that I've discovered a new found confidence and self appreciation for my shape that I've never had before.

I completely forgot that I left my room in a pretty chaotic mess while getting ready for my meeting earlier, so when we enter, I quickly start picking up clothes from the floor and begin folding them into a pile at the edge of my bed.

"Have a seat," I tell him.

"Where?" He asks sarcastically.