Chapter 11
eleven
I wake up to an empty bed.
Aside from the rumpled bedding, the indentation of Reyna’s body is already gone, sheets cool to the touch.
Rolling over, I stare up at the ceiling, arms butterflied behind my head, trying to come to terms with how the hell I feel about it.
Relief. Definitely relief. I don’t do the whole, “So… what happens now?” conversation that inevitably follows up a weekend like this. I’ve perfected the art of a clean exit, and apparently, so has she.
But there’s something else clawing at my chest. A tightness that doesn’t sit right. Disappointment, maybe? Which is stupid. I don’t get disappointed in these situations. That’s the whole fucking point. Typically, I’m ecstatic when I wake up and whoever I was with is long gone.
I sit up, scrubbing my hands over my face.
The room still smells like her. Sweet and warm, lingering on the pillows and the sheets.
The same sheets where I’ve spent the last two days making her come so hard, she screamed my name so loud, and so many times, her voice was raspy after only a few hours in.
And she just... left.
Hope blooms in my chest. Maybe she left a note.
Heart pounding, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and scan both nightstands. Nothing. Just my phone, wallet, and a few empty condom wrappers.
“Damn.”
Eyes darting, I take a look around. The coffee table in the sitting room is still covered with remnants from our last meal—a couple of plates with half-eaten cheeseburgers and an empty bottle of red wine. But no note.
I check the bathroom next. Nothing.
My stomach sinks and I surprise myself when the sudden need to punch something takes over.
The search doesn’t take long. And still I find nothing.
Feeling somewhat dejected, I grab my phone off the nightstand.
A text from Jenna and another from Maddie mock me from the screen. Two women who have always been down to hook up. No strings. No bullshit.
Just the thought of calling either of them again makes my stomach turn, so I delete both threads and block their numbers.
Not going there anymore.
A smile tugs at my lips when I see a text from my twin sister Lizzy. She’s been on my ass about me going back home to Lakeside for a weekend incessantly over the past few months. But work keeps getting in the way. The fires up in Canada this year have been brutal.
I text her back. Letting her know I’ll be there.
A snort falls from my lips when I see Brex’s message. I kind of feel bad now for leaving him out of all the fun this time. We’ve been sharing ever since shit went sideways with me and Melissa.
Ugh.
Just the thought of her name sends a cold spike of ice slicing through my chest. Mel was the reason Brex and I started sharing in the first place. She was also the reason I swore off relationships. The reason I don’t do feelings anymore.
We met in our sophomore year of college.
She was gorgeous—curly brown hair, big brown eyes, and a laugh that could fill a whole room.
I fell hard and fast, the way you do when you’re in your twenties and think you’ve got the whole fucking world figured out.
We were together for almost two years. I thought she was it for me.
I was even planning to propose after graduation.
Then, one afternoon, I walked into our apartment and found her bent over the kitchen counter with Derek—a guy I’d sat next to for three semesters in science class. A guy who’d borrowed my notes, eaten my food, and laughed at my jokes—grunting and rutting into her from behind.
I stood in that doorway for what felt like an eternity, watching her face contort, mouth open in pleasure while he fucked her.
She didn’t see me at first. But when she finally opened her eyes and met my gaze across the room, she didn’t look surprised at all. She just... kept going. Got even louder as she ordered the asshole to go faster as she locked eyes with me.
So, I walked out. Didn’t say a word. Didn’t slam the door. Just turned around and left.
That night I ended up at some frat party I had no business being at, doing my best to get as wasted as I could when Brex found me in the backyard, sitting on the grass.
“You look like shit,” he says, handing me a fresh beer.
“Found Melissa fucking Derek in our kitchen this afternoon.”
He doesn’t say he’s sorry. Doesn’t give me some bullshit adage about how she’s not worth stressing over. He just sits down next to me and sips his beer.
“Women, man,” he finally says. “They’ll gut you if you let ’em.”
All I can manage is a brief nod as I sip.
Then he elbows me in the ribs and grins. The same grin that’s gotten him out of more trouble and into even more panties, more times than I can count. “You know what we should do?”
“What?”
“You see that hottie over there?”
He jerks his chin at a girl standing over by the keg. With long red hair and curves for days, she’s the exact opposite of Melissa. “We need to get your mind off all the bullshit. I hear that one is down for taking more than one guy at a time.”
I stare at him like he’s lost his goddamn mind. “What the fuck? Are you being serious right now?”
“Dead serious.” He claps me on the shoulder, his grin spreading wider than a dancer’s legs at a strip club. “Think about it.”
Tossing his empty cup aside, he leans back on his hands, giving the redhead a wink when she glances our direction. “No strings. Just two guys giving a hot chick the best night of her goddamn life. No expectations. Just sex.”
At the time, the idea of sharing a woman with anyone—let alone one of my best friends—was fucked up on about seventeen different levels.
But then flashes of Melissa getting railed on my kitchen island flashed through my head.
“Okay,” I hear myself say.
Brex’s eyebrows shoot up. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And that’s how it started. And for years, it’s actually worked out pretty damn well.
I trudge into the bathroom. The hot water does nothing to wash away the memory of how Reyna’s skin felt or how tight her pussy gripped me as she squirted all over my dick.
As I’m toweling off, my phone dings with another text.
brEX
Still alive? Call me as soon as you come up for air.
I stare down at the message for a solid ten seconds before I hit the call button.
He picks up on the second ring.
“So. How’d it go? She still there?” Even though Brex’s tone is light, I can practically hear his effing smirk through the phone.
“She’s gone. Left before I woke up.”
The line goes quiet for a beat.
“Well... fuck. That sucks.” He blows out a breath. “Did you at least get her name and number?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
Silence.
“Brex?”
“I know you felt it too, Lo.”
My jaw tightens as I grip the phone, staring out the hotel window at the Columbia River. The water’s gray this morning. Dark and choppy. Kind of how my insides are feeling right about now.
“Like I said. It doesn’t matter. She’s gone.” I shrug. “It’s better this way.”
Water drips down the back of my neck as I run a hand through my wet hair. “Last thing I want to happen is what went down with Mel.”
“That’s not the vibe we got from her and you know it. Bro, it’s not even the same situation.”
“Still.”
He gives me another sigh. The kind that tells me he’s about to say something I don’t want to hear. “Look, man. I get it. Mel fucked you up. But not every woman is gonna—”
“Save it.”
“Fine.” He pauses. “You heading home this weekend?”
“Yeah. Lizzy’s been blowing up my phone.”
“Cool if I come with? We can grab a beer at The Brew. Maybe find someone to help you forget all about Pretty.”
His nickname for her hits me hard. I open my mouth to correct him. Tell him she’s not just ‘pretty’. Her name is Reyna. And she tastes like honey and sounds like heaven when she comes.
“Sure,” I say instead. “Sounds good.”
“Alright. See you soon, brother.”
I hang up and toss the phone onto the bed.
The room feels too big without her in it. Too quiet.
I should be relieved.
So why does my chest feel like someone is fucking sitting on it?