Chapter 10
ten
Sunday morning I wake to the sound of buzzing coming from the night stand.
Sheets soft against my skin, I stretch and glance over at Logan. Sleeping on his stomach, one arm is loosely draped over my waist with the other tucked under his pillow.
The past couple of days have been filled with sex, food, sex and more sex. We haven’t been able to get enough of each other, talking about anything and everything, still managing to keep anything too personal off the table.
Buzz. Buzz.
My gaze flicks back to Logan, who hasn’t moved an inch, and back to the nightstand.
Buzz. Buzz.
I rub the sleep from my eyes and grab my phone, squinting at the bright screen.
My heart skips when I realize it’s not my phone.
It’s his.
The screen is lit up with a series of notifications, and before I can stop myself—before I can be a decent human being and put the damn thing back where it belongs—my traitorous eyes start to read.
JENNA
Heard you’re back in town. My bed’s been lonely without you. When are you boys gonna come break it again?
My stomach drops.
I scroll to the next. Because, unfortunately, I’ve always been a glutton for punishment.
MADDIE
It’s been too long. Free tonight? I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue.
Heat crawls up my neck, breath sticking in my throat. These are two women who have clearly had their tongues and God knows what else all over the man currently sleeping next to me.
But I can’t stop. My thumb just keeps swiping away, almost as if it has a mind of its own.
brEX
Dude. When are you coming up for air? It’s been almost 48 hours. You dead? Also, real fucked up you wouldn’t share Pretty. Selfish bastard. Call me, dick.
A fucking angel emoji? Is there some sort of inside joke I’m not privy to? Am I just another sexual conquest to be passed around?
Not that I would’ve been against it given the opportunity. But still.
My chest tightens, and I’m about to toss the phone aside when another message from yesterday catches my eye.
IZ
Love you. Miss you. Can’t wait to see you!
The room tilts.
Love you.
The words burn into my retinas, searing themselves into my brain with a white-hot intensity that makes my vision blur.
Miss you.
I read it again. And again. Because maybe I’m hallucinating. Maybe I’m still half-asleep and my brain is playing some cruel joke on me.
Can’t wait to see you.
Nope. The words are clear as day.
And Logan is here. In this bed. With me. After two days of fucking me senseless, feeding me much more than just food, making me laugh, making me feel things I haven’t felt in years. If ever.
My throat closes up. The phone feels like it weighs a thousand pounds in my trembling hand.
Is he married? Engaged? In a committed relationship with some woman named Iz who has no idea her man has been balls-deep inside someone else?
The thought makes bile rise in my throat.
Fucks, sake, Rey. It’s not like he promised you anything.
I mean, I knew he got around. The condoms were a dead giveaway. Not to mention the way Brex offered two for the price of one like it was Black fucking Friday. But this? This feels different. Like betrayal on a whole other level.
And for some reason, I can’t seem to put my finger on why. I knew what I was getting myself into. At least, I thought I did. I needed to get laid, and they both showed up twice in twenty-four hours.
So I took it as a sign.
My eyes sting. Refusing to let the tears fall, I rapidly blink them away. Not here. Not now. Not over a man I spent one stupid weekend with. A man whose name I didn’t even know until after he’d fucked me better than anyone else ever has.
Should I confront him? I shake my head. It’s not like I have the right. I’m not his freakin’ girlfriend.
Ugh. I seriously need to get out of here.
Carefully, using two fingers and a thumb, I take Logan’s wrist and slowly move it onto the bed.
Slipping out from under the sheets, my bare feet land on soft carpet.
Shit. My heart is pounding so hard. I need to move fast.
Where the hell are my clothes?
The only thing I’ve worn since that first night is the plush white hotel robe, currently discarded on a chair across the room.
I glance back at Logan’s sleeping form, his back rising and falling in a steady rhythm.
Nope. Just... look away, Rey.
Eyes darting around the room, I begin my frantic search. My jeans are crumpled on the floor by the bedroom door, and I find my top draped over the arm of the chair in the corner. I snatch them up, turning in circles as I frantically search for my underwear.
Finally, I find the twisted pair of black lace on the floor at the end of the bed.
But my bra? Nowhere to be found.
I check under the chair and behind the nightstand. Nada.
Goddammit. It’s probably buried under the mountain of pillows we knocked onto the floor.
Rushing to the bathroom to check the shower, my toe connects with the door jamb.
“Fuck!” I hiss, hopping up and down on one foot as pain shoots up my leg. Tears springing to my eyes, I bite my lip.
Logan stirs, mumbling something unintelligible. I freeze, holding my breath, cringing and rubbing my toe until his breathing evens out again.
Heart knocking a frantic beat, I finally spot my bra peeking out from underneath the bed, right where Logan tossed it the first night with a wicked grin.
Stuffing it into my purse along with my panties, I shove my legs into my jeans, nearly losing my balance as I hop on one foot before yanking my shirt over my head.
Grabbing my purse, I’m ready to walk out the door, but...
I sigh to myself.
One last look won’t hurt. Right?
He looks so peaceful. The hard edges of his face are softened by whiskers he hasn’t bothered to shave all weekend.
Dark hair tousled, his lips are slightly parted.
Sheets tangle around his waist, exposing the muscular planes of his back and the tattoo curving over his shoulder blade and down his arm.
My throat tightens. I should be angry—and I am—but there’s something else. Something that feels dangerously close to hurt.
So I push it down deep. Down to the place I’ve buried all the other feelings I can’t afford to let take over.
Backing away, I throw my purse over my shoulder and slip into my shoes.
Closing the door behind me with a soft click, I make my way down the hall to the elevator.
The ride down to the lobby is a blur. It’s quiet, with just a few early risers sipping coffee in the lounge. No one spares me a glance as I hurry past.
Head held high, I step outside onto the sidewalk, raising my hand for cab.
This is one walk of shame I’ll never forget.