Chapter Five
Gray
I love the way Indy feels spooned in my arms. Her body is hot from being cuddled up against mine. The curve of her hip is under my palm. The soft shift every time she takes a breath and exhales is so peaceful. Both her feet are pressed to my shin.
Brr.
My lips curve up against her shoulder. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life like this. Loving her will never get old. We’ll fight for our future, and everything will be fine.
Brr.
I press my lips to the warm skin of her shoulder as I languidly move my hand from her hip to her belly. She moans as my fingers caress lower and lower. I don’t want to wake her up. She needs her rest, especially after last night.
“No wonder you’re not answering your phone.” EJ’s voice so close to my ear, as low as it is, snaps me out of that one moment of the day when my life has not gone to complete shit. “America? Seriously?”
I open my eyes faster than I’ve ever opened them in my life. I wasn’t completely dreaming about the woman in my arms. My hand is on the lower part of her belly, but it’s not Indy’s familiar soap that I smell. And it’s not her coppery locks or pale skin that I see. Because I will never see those things again.
She sleeps next to him now. That asshole who stole her away from me. He’s the one whose heart gets to hold her. He’s the one who cared for her while she recovered from surgery.
It was supposed to be me.
My chest aches so much that I can barely breathe. The heat of my anger is like chronic heartburn. Acidic and bitter. My jaw clenches so tightly, the bone would probably snap under the slightest pressure.
The girl in my arms sighs in her sleep and it all comes flooding back in. Running into America. Being so awkward we could barely converse. Making fun of EJ and her friend’s inability to keep their hands to themselves. Coming back to the hotel. The swimming pool. Her taste on my tongue. “Fuck.”
“Fuck is right,” EJ says, still talking low enough that it shouldn’t wake her. “I know you’re angry and hurting, but that’s Indy’s best friend. What were you thinking?”
I was thinking… fuck. I wasn’t thinking.
I extricate my tangled limbs from America and the sheet as slowly and carefully as I can. She doesn’t need to wake up to EJ hovering next to the bed. I grab my boxers from the floor and then discard them since they’re still wet from our swim.
Snagging my jeans I put them on instead while EJ waits with folded arms and a stern expression that is eerily similar to his dad’s. I’m not going to tell him that right now though.
Picking up my shirt, I indicate we should move to the balcony to continue this conversation.
He follows me out. “Go on then. Explain.”
“We were drunk.” And I was lonely and sick of hurting. “One thing led to another. A little like you and America’s friend. I’m surprised you’re here, actually.”
“You’re not changing the subject,” he says. “We’re talking about America. And you.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I get why you don’t want to go back to your normal life right now. And why you can’t bear to be around my sister. I don’t blame you for wanting to fuck your way through Europe, or whatever it is you’ve been doing these past few months.”
I haven’t slept with anyone since Indy, until last night. But I don’t tell him that. It would probably make things worse, and it’s really not anyone’s business.
“But America is Indy’s best friend. She’s supposed to be your friend. Fucking her to get back at my sister…” He shakes his head.
“That’s not what this was.” I grit my teeth. His sister is the one who had an affair… she is the one who left me… I am not the asshole here.
“Isn’t it?” He raises his brow. “Of all the women in the club last night you slept with Indy’s best friend. You do realize how screwed up that is. Unless… Do you like America?”
“As a friend.” Button latched on my pants, I tug the Henley over my head and smooth it down.
“And as more?” he specifies.
“No. Not at all.” Am I attracted to her? I certainly was last night. She is gorgeous. Smart. Incredibly fun to be around. I collapse onto the wrought iron seat I pulled up to the balcony last night. But in the light of a sun barely crossing the horizon… I am angry. I am in pain. And I did sleep with the one woman I probably shouldn’t have.
There’s a good chance that his opinion holds some weight. That I inadvertently used America. Not as a way to get back at Indy for leaving me. America doesn’t deserve that. But as a way to forget Indy. America doesn’t deserve that either, but I wasn’t thinking so clearly last night. “Maybe you’re right. It’s been months and it hasn’t gotten easier. I don’t think it ever will.”
“Sure it will,” he says. “And then you’ll come back to Chicago and settle into real life. You’ll meet someone new. And you’ll find a way to be happy again.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Indy broke me. There’s nothing but scar tissue left. I don’t want anyone else. I can’t imagine a future without her in it, let alone with somebody else.
“It will be. In time,” he says. “As long as it isn’t with America.”
“It won’t be America.” Having a few too many drinks and a one-night stand with her is one thing, but she deserves something real, and I can’t give her that. I don’t have it in me. Not anymore. “I could never date her.”
“Careful,” EJ growls, as protective of America as he would be if she were really his sister.
She’s my friend so I understand the desire to protect her. When she told me about that bastard of a professor I could barely keep from bunching my fists and pounding one into the little iron table. “What happened last night was an unfortunate lack of judgement on my part. But we’re both adults and I’m sure that we both know what this was. It will never happen again.”
EJ nods as though satisfied. Yawns. “I’m going to grab a shower and then get a couple hours sleep.”
He disappears inside, but I find myself dawdling on the balcony. America is most likely still curled up in my bed, sleeping. I can’t climb in beside her like EJ and I never had this talk. God only knows how awkward that would be.
It’s more than that though. Having her back in my life… joking around… talking about all the things we’ve missed these last few months was nice, but it didn’t change the fact that I woke up still missing Indy.
What happened last night was a huge mistake. It should never have happened. It complicates everything between us again. It’s not what I wanted. So I’ll explain myself. Hopefully we can find a way to be on the same page about this.
She’s dressed and searching frantically under the bed when I enter the room. She barely stops when she notices me.
The shower is running behind the closed bathroom door.
“Everything okay?” I glance around for a condom. I can’t remember wrapping up but I know I would have used one, although I didn’t pack any. But EJ did, so I probably grabbed one from him. “Your cousin didn’t say anything, did he?”
“What would he say?”
“Nothing really.” How do I start a conversation about how we shouldn’t have ended up in bed last night?
She sits back on her heels. “I can’t find my shoes.”
“They might still be down by the pool.” I’ll probably be able to see them from the balcony if they are. But the condom I hoped we used seems like wishful thinking.
Shit. How could I be so careless?
“Oh. Right.” Her face falls. Standing, she finds her clutch. “I need to go. I’ll collect them on my way out.”
“America?”
“Can we please pretend like last night never happened?” A flash of emotion disappears behind bright eyes.
She’s embarrassed? Regretting how we behaved? “I don’t think we can. We didn’t use a condom, and I—"
“I’m on the pill, Gray. You have nothing to worry about.” She rolls her eyes. “So let’s put it behind us. It never happened.”
“I think that’s for the best.” What else is there to say? It’s all fucking awkward.
She takes out her phone, probably checking to see if her friend has reached out. “Great. We’re on the same page then. I have to go.”
“You should have my new number.”
“You changed it?” That gets her attention. She does something on her phone. “What is it?”
I rattle the number off and she enters it into her device before slipping it back into her clutch.
“I’ll text you,” I say. “You text me too. Tell me all about what you decide to do now that you’re not going to school. I want to hear about what you’re up to. I want to be able to call you and talk to you. I want to be your friend again. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
Not because we fell into bed or because of her best friend. It can be simple. I enjoy her company. Our conversations. And I’m not going to be awkward about that.
Her lips part and then she rubs them together. She walks to the door. “I’ll text you then.”
I hold the door open for her. Last night was a mistake, but keeping in contact isn’t. “I look forward to it.”