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There wasn’t even a mark.

Probably wouldn’t be one.

And maybe tomorrow Xay would wake up embarrassed.

Maybe he’d apologize.

Maybe he’d tell himself he had only grabbed me because he was drunk and emotional.

Maybe he’d even believe it.

But that wasn’t what scared me.

What scared me was the look in his eyes right before he let go.

Like he genuinely couldn’t understand why I wasn’t listening to him anymore.

Like no wasn’t an answer he recognized coming from me.

I had spent years thinking Xavier’s worst quality was that he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

I was starting to realize I might’ve been wrong.

The worst thing about Xay was that somewhere along the way, he’d convinced himself that loving us meant owning us.