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I wake up to the sound of a shower on in Jace's bathroom, still wearing my t-shirt dress from the day before.

I grab my phone from my red tote bag on the floor and check the time. 12pm. Damn, we slept in late, and I wasn't even drunk.

Last night was the drunkest I've seen Jace in a long time. My mind wonders again if he meant what he said, or if he was just talking shit. Why would he lie though? He wouldn't mess with my feelings like that. He'd only say that stuff if he really meant it, right?

I want it to be real. I want him to come out of the bathroom and come over here and hug me again. It's crazy how you can feel so much more from a hug with the right person, than a kiss with the wrong person.

Kissing Wesley felt numb.

The shower cuts off and a few minutes later Jace opens the door while ruffling his wet hair with a towel, wearing black shorts and a white t-shirt. 

He doesn't come and hug me. He just glances at me then throws his towel onto the floor.

"How's the hangover?"

"Killer." He picks up his phone and sits on the bed, replying to texts.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

There's a moment of silence.

"Jace?"

"What?" He says, still looking at his phone. 

"Do you... remember last night?"

"What part?"

"The part where you said you love me?"

He freezes for a moment before going back to texting. "Yeah, um, sorry about that."

"What are you sorry for?"

"Saying it."

"Why?" He doesn't respond and my patience wears thin. I stand up. "Jace, would you fucking look at me?"

He takes a moment, thinking and presses his lips together before looking at me. "What do you want me to say Yasmin? I'm sorry, everyone says shit when they're drunk that they don't mean."

And this is what I was afraid of. "You didn't mean what you said? How can you not? It had to come from somewhere."

He sighs, "Grow up, Yas, I only said that to get in your pants."

His words feel like a punch in the gut. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I said that I'm sorry."

"Telling someone you're in love with them is not just something you can throw around! And just to sleep with me? I thought you'd have more respect for me by now to not just see me as a fucking object! What is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry I got my sexual attraction to you confused with love, okay? We all say stupid shit when we're drunk. I didn't think."

Why did I let myself believe that he'd want anything more with me than sex?

Why does everyone just want to sleep with me? Why does no want me for who I am? Why am I not good enough?

Why do I expect anyone to actually like me for who I am?

My eyes fill up with tears but I try to focus on my anger instead of sadness.

"Screw you, Jace. You're such a fucking dickhead! I actually thought you were sorry for what you did before. I thought you grew up and actually cared."

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