Page 157 of The Wicked

His response had rattled me. I didn’t know why it stung, but it did.

This was a sign. Maybe we were spending too much time together. Maybe I was in over my head thinking he actually did want me here because he liked my company, and wanted more than just the physical.

I mean I’m “just Zahra,” and he’s way above “just Zahra.” He’s more into Grace from the exhibit, not “just Zahra” from… the streets. I’m pretty sure he’d have use for her number.

God…

My eyes remained fixed on the window, watching the men going this way and that, making sure everything was intact because they were carrying someone important.

Elio. Not me.

Why did I agree to come to this again? And why am I suddenly missing my friends?

Maybe I should have come with a disguise, maybe I would have felt more confident with one… but I knew he had askedmeto accompany him, not someone else. I was also maybe… eager to spend time with him.

Foolish Zahra.

But God… I was not supposed to like him or befondof him. I should have noticed it whenever I had the powerful urge to defend Elio from Devil’s trash-talking.

Elio was growing on me, and this was not because I really wanted to fuck him. No. This was something else.

“I feel like I’ve said something wrong.” He voiced his concern, making me look back at him.

“What?”

“Your guard is up again. Is this because I don’t want your phone number?”

I was transparent to this man, and it was dangerous.

“I’m a big girl; I’ll get over it,” I said with a tight smile I’d wanted to be carefree, but my mood wasn’t shifting or lifting.

He sighed, picked up the phone from the table, and got to his feet.

For some unknown reason, my heart skipped a beat.

I often knew how to predict people, but I raised my guard for this man because he was the most unpredictable person I’d ever encountered.

He crossed the space between us and sat beside me, clouding my senses with his cologne. I couldn’t think straight for a good minute.

“Here.” He outstretched his phone to me. “Put in your number.”

I blinked at him. “What?”

“Your number,” he repeated.

“I thought you didn’t want it?”

“I don’t,” he stated. “But apparently, that upset you, so if putting your number in would make you feel better, then here. We can be—” He clenched his jaw like he didn’t want to say it but cleared his throat and completed, “Text buddies.”

My eyes searched his and then dropped to the phone.

The normal Zahra would brush it off, raise her chin up, and neverevergive him her number, but this Zahra, whoever the fuck she was, was collecting his phone and saving her number.

When I was done, I gave him the phone back, and his fingers tapped on the screen for a short moment. I briefly wondered what he was doing until my phone vibrated inside my purse.

I glanced at him, and he gestured with his chin towards the purse in my lap. I took my phone out swiftly and smiled when I saw a message from an unknown number. It was a simple “Hello.” With a freaking full stop at the end of it.

“Happy?” he asked, making me look back at him, the color of his eyes causing me to hold my breath for a few seconds.