10. Priya
CHAPTER 10
PRIYA
Bowen is fast asleep with his massive arms still locked around me. His warmth cocoons me and the moonlight creates a soft glow in the suite. The steady rise and fall of his chest beneath my palm feels like peace.
I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do when I see myself reflected in his eyes. Being with Bowen is pure magic. Having him inside of me filled something deep and undeniable that I didn’t even know I was missing. There isn’t a single thing fake about the way I feel for this man.
I lay in peaceful silence, memorizing the details of him. I note the way his lashes fan against his cheek. I see the slight furrow in his brow even in sleep, it’s like he’s still half-protecting, half-claiming me even now. I trace the line of his jaw and the muscles of his shoulder. His body is perfect and the contrast of his hard lines pressed against my round curves melts me.
But a sound in the hall pulls me back to the present. It’s footsteps.
Suddenly reality encroaches. I realize I’m at work in suites reserved for guests… And I’m naked. My clothing is scattered somewhere between the hallway and the lobby. I listen more intently. The sound of boots against the hardwood floors makes their way toward the cooler. The lid opens and then closes again.
Dammit.
I lost myself in my night with Bowen. never moved the rest of the water bottles over. The guys are going to wake up hungover and it will be another thing for them to complain about. Meanwhile, I’ll be freaking naked. I can’t have that getting back to my parents.
I glance back at Bowen, debating whether to wake him, but the deep, even breaths leaving his lips make my decision for me. Instead, I carefully slip from his grasp, easing out of bed without disturbing him.
The night air kisses my bare legs as I tug on the first thing I find. I pull Bowen’s shirt over my head. It’s oversized and soft against my skin. The fabric carries his scent, and for a second I consider crawling back into bed beside him. But the thought of the sun coming up on my naked body and the waterless coolers propels me forward.
I’ll be quick.
I wait until the footsteps fade down the hall, then slip out the door, moving as quietly as possible. The dim glow of the overhead lights cast long shadows along the walls as I make my way down the corridor, scanning for any sign of my discarded clothes.
A wad of denim. Maybe a shirt.
Then I spot my lacey pink bra just outside the door in the courtyard. It’s tangled together with a branch and my shirt where we carelessly left it in the rush of last night. Heat creeps up my neck at the sight. But there’s no time for embarrassment. Moving quickly, I tiptoe down the hall, push through the glass doors, and scoop up my bra and shirt in one swift motion.
Just as I step back inside, a voice cuts through the quiet. “Ha. That sounds about right.”
It’s deep, loud, and oblivious to the concept of privacy. I’d recognize it anywhere and my blood runs cold. Gunner. Of course.
“You know, Pri, this really hurts my feelings,” he drawls, his voice thick with mock injury. “You wanted me to find you half-naked. And all I wanted was to talk to you. So, you get what you want… again. And I’ve just gotta deal with it.”
I stiffen, my grip tightening around the wad of fabric in my hands. “This isn’t about you, Gunner. I’m sorry to break it to you, but not everything in my life revolves around you.” I square my shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. “Besides, I never wanted this. You cheated on me, remember? Or are you confusing the story you fed the press with reality?”
His smirk falters for half a second before he recovers. “Come on, don’t be like that. It’s complicated.”
“No, it’s really not.” I let out a humorless chuckle and take a step away from him.
Then I hear voices and it stops me in my tracks. They are loud and close. My stomach turns.
“Someone’s up,” I whisper.
Gunner glances toward the hallway, his cocky grin faltering. “It’s just the social media crew. Don’t worry, I’m sure they won’t take pictures now. It’s so late.”
His words are casual, but his eyes widen as the voices get louder. I think I might be sick. There’s no way I’ll make it back to my suite without them seeing me and we both know it. I’m standing in the middle of a dimly lit hallway, wearing nothing but Bowen’s shirt, my hair a tangled mess, my bare legs completely exposed. A flash of panic hits me as I imagine news of this getting back to my parents.
Gunner must see the panic on my face because he sighs dramatically and reaches for the handle of his hotel room door. “Come on, I don’t hate you that much,” he says, pushing it open. He jerks his head toward the inside. “Step in and put your clothes on. Unless you’d rather end up on every tabloid’s front page first thing in the morning.”
I hesitate. My eyes dart from the suite where Bowen’s waiting for me. It’s so close, but too far, and then back to the door behind where the voices grow louder.
Gunner watches me, then smirks. “Oh, come on babe. It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”
My jaw clenches and my stomach turns. But so does the handle on the door with the voices. The door across from us opens and I catch a glimpse of blonde hair coming out of the room before I step inside of Gunner’s suite. He closes the door behind me.
Gunner seizes the opportunity like a man who’s been waiting for it. He tells me he’s made mistakes. No shit, buddy. He tells me he’s sorry. That he’s learned. That he still believes in us. He believes we have a real shot at going the distance if we just give it one more try. It’s gross.
Every sentence out of his mouth paints me in shades of uncomfortable, making me acutely aware of how incredible Bowen is in comparison. Every word Gunner says only solidifies what I already know, I can’t wait to get back to Bowen.
I let Gunner talk because, really, what choice do I have? But as I stand there, arms crossed, holding onto my clothes like a lifeline, I realize something. He can’t get to me anymore. His words roll off me, powerless, empty. I barely hear most of them.
My focus is on the door. My body hums with the urgency to get out. I lean slightly toward it, straining for the sound of silence so I can make my escape. At some point, Gunner realizes I’m not biting and offers to go find my pants in some last-ditch effort to be a gentleman.
But then Gunner turns back toward me. His voice takes on that smug, self-important tone that makes my stomach churn. “Priya, you don’t realize how hard the media spotlight was on me too? All those expectations, being America’s sweetheart, the perfect fantasy man every woman wanted—it’s a heavy weight. We both had it rough and I’m not sure anyone else can understand what we went through.”
That does it. The floodgates burst open. The words I should have said a long time ago rise up inside me and burn through my throat like fire.
“Gunner, you let them attack me.”
He blinks, taken aback. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.
“You stood by and didn’t say a fucking word while the entire world ripped me apart. I didn’t have a voice. I had no one. And you didn’t give a shit. That was your choice. Take some accountability for once in your life.”
Boom. Boom. Boom.
Sharp, deliberate knocks at the door make my words catch in my throat. Gunner doesn’t hesitate. He rips the door open, exposing me before I can even react. And there, standing in the doorway is Bowen.
His gaze sweeps over me. The oversized shirt, the bundle of clothes in my hands, my bare legs. His jaw ticks. Then his eyes shift to Gunner. Bowen’s eyes darken and his stare is fierce. Sharp enough to cut.
Gunner doesn’t back down. He squares his shoulders, meeting Bowen’s glare head-on, his trademark smirk curling at the edges.
Bowen speaks first, his voice low and controlled. Too controlled. “Priya,” he says, steel laced through my name. “What is this?”
“We were just talking,” I say quickly, my heart hammering against my ribs.
“Yeah,” Gunner drawls, stepping just a little too close to me. “We were just talking. And I was about to head out to find her pants and underwear.” He grins. “You know how she gets wild.”
My mouth falls open and the air in the room shatters.
Bowen moves faster than I can process. One second he’s standing there, the next, he lunges at Gunner, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and slamming him against the door. The impact echoes down the hall.
My stomach lurches. One by one, doors creak open. Sleepy, curious faces peek out, eyes widening at the scene unfolding before them. Each one feels like a laser beam burning into my skin.
“I wouldn’t do that, cowboy,” Gunner grits out, jerking against Bowen’s grip.
I drop my voice and put a hand on Bowen’s arm. “Stop it, he’s got a whole team of big dudes. It’s not worth it. This isn’t a big deal.”
Bowen turns to face me, his eyes widen as he takes in the scene all over again. “Oh, I see. I should stop. Am I wrong here?”
“I’m just saying that this isn't your fight.” My words come out choppy and clipped, but they take the wind out of him.
Bowen deflates. His face pinches into tight lines. He runs a hand through his hair. “You aren’t mine to fight for… That’s right, I forgot. This is just fun and that’s perfect actually. I didn’t want to break my three-day record anyway.”
A half hour later the chaos around me dissipates into nothingness. Gunner retreats to his suite with some kind of sick victory under his belt. Bowen disappears with Callum before I can stop them. The Southern Knights and their Sagebrush Creek concubines go back behind their closed doors. All that’s left for me to do is go home.
I lay down to a sleepless night knowing the scene that unfolded is over but nowhere near forgotten. I feel sick about the assumptions Bowen must have made when I close my eyes. I toss and turn for hours. The weight of the world is on my shoulders.
Regrets wrack my body and flood my mind. I should have taken Bowen’s face in my hands and promised him that he is the only man I want in my life. I should have told him that he and I are so much more than just fun. I shouldn’t have played with fire when I felt the spark between us from the moment we met.
My eyelids grow heavy as the sun comes up and I finally give in to the sleep I desperately need. Tomorrow I’m going to have to throw everything I’ve got at fixing things with Bowen.