“Hey!” I yelled, shoving the dude’s shoulder. He grunted and tightened his ironclad grip around my waist. If he didn’t get off me in about ten seconds, he was going to wake up in a very wet bed.
I leaned in close and moved some hair away from his ear, making a concerted effort to not notice how soft and silky it felt between my fingers.
“Wake up!” I yelled and then smacked the back of his head for good measure.
Yep, that did the trick.
The guy bolted straight up in bed. “What the fuck?” he growled and leaned over to flip on the lamp. And it was then that I got my first glimpse of my one-night stand.
“You have GOT to be freaking kidding me!” I screeched, hurriedly pulling up the sheet to cover my entirely too naked breasts.
Garrett Bellows ran a hand through his shoulder length blond hair and blinked at me in confusion. “What the hell is your problem?” he asked, scrubbing his face with his hands before dropping back onto the bed. My eyes drifted down the length of his very toned and obnoxiously nice body until they stopped and honed in on a very prominent part of his anatomy that I only too recently felt pressed intimately against me. And Mr. Veined and Throbbing was at attention and on very prominent display. I swallowed thickly as images came swimming back through my hazy memory.
Garrett kissing me as though I had been the air he breathed. Garrett softly touching me an then laying me out on the bed I now found myself in. I closed my eyes and could see him over me as his weight pressed me into the mattress.
I shivered uncontrollably. Shit, shit, shit!
I opened my eyes and sneered at him, throwing a sheet over his lower half. “Cover yourself up, will you?” I snarled, leaning over the side of the bed and finding my shirt from the night before. I quickly pulled it over my head and felt better at having a barrier between Garrett and my skin.
Garrett had lowered his arm and was watching me. He didn’t look angry by my attitude. He didn’t appear to be hurt in any way by my obvious dismissal of him. This was both a relief and strangely disappointing.
He seemed only thoughtful. Curious even.
What the hell?
“Where are my pants?” I muttered under my breath. I got out of bed, trying not to die of total embarrassment as I flashed Garrett a pretty picture of my ass while I bent over to retrieve the rest of my discarded clothing. As I finished getting dressed, I grumbled, I cursed, and I otherwise fumed at my total idiocy.
And Garrett freaking Bellows didn’t say a damned thing. He just lay there, watching me, as though he found me supremely entertaining.
“Do you know where my keys are?” I asked him, hating that I had to talk to him at all. I would rather have left with my head hung in shame, never to reveal my night as Miss Skankalicious to anyone ever.
Garrett pointed across the room. “You dropped your bag when we came in here last night. I’m guessing you’ll find them in there,” he remarked dryly. He stood up and I was treated to another view of his body. And my body tingled in response.
My eyes fell onto the tattoo on his side and words floated through my brain.
Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.
Where the heck did that come from? My chest pitter-pattered painfully for some unknown reason.
Time to shut this crap down here and now.
“I just need to get out of here,” I said more to myself than to him but he heard me loud and clear.
“Why the rush?” Garrett asked, cocking his eyebrow. His blasé nonchalance prickled my already testy nerves and reminded me of why he annoyed the shit out of me. People that laid back drove me crazy.
“No sense in wasting anymore of your time. I think we’re done here,” I spat out, glaring at him. I knew I was being horrible but I was mortified by my behavior.
Riley Walker does not get so drunk she blacks out.
Riley Walker does not have sex with a guy she barely knows; particularly when said guy was one she could barely stand.
And apparently Riley Walker was now talking about herself in the third person. Hello insanity!
Garrett pulled on a pair of sweat pants and lifted my purse. I grit my teeth as he crooked his finger in my direction. “You want it, come over here and get it.” He was messing with me. Trying to make me more uncomfortable than I already was.
Well screw him!
Wait… I had already done that…Ugh!
I snatched it from him, making sure not to touch him as I did so. More flashes flooded my brain.
His lips. His hands. The way he said my name right before he kissed me.
What I wouldn’t give for another bought of alcohol-induced amnesia right about now.
Garrett’s eyes heated for a moment, as though he could read my mind. His gaze slid down the length of me and then came back up to meet my eyes where they cooled slowly. His mouth, entirely too pretty to be a guy’s, set into a firm line and for a second, I felt a flash of regret.
Not for our night together. But for the way I was treating him. He didn’t deserve to be shitted on because I was feeling like a fuck up. I opened my mouth to apologize, a Riley Walker first, when he beat me to the punch.
He walked passed me to the bedroom door and opened it wide. He gave me a cold smile. “Oh, we’re done here all right.” Garrett ran his fingers down the side of my neck and I couldn’t help but notice the way his face softened a bit before he went in for the kill.
“It was fun, but I won’t be signing up for round two. You can leave now.” His grin was as brittle as broken glass and I felt my face flush red in a mixture of humiliation and gnaw-through-his-jugular rage.
To hell with the apology!
I leaned up on my tiptoes, my hands gripping his shoulders. My lips hovered near his and I smirked inwardly at the hitch in his breathing. “Well it’s a good thing you were entirely forgettable then,” I whispered, licking my lips slowly and chuckling as Garrett’s eyes dropped to my mouth.
“Now get the fuck out of my way,” I bit out, moving away from him. Garrett blinked, his eyes becoming once again glacial cool and he gestured me out into the hallway and then proceeded to slam the door behind me.
Well that went well, I thought as I made my way as stealthily as possible out of the house. There were a few people passed out on the couch in the living room, a guy snoring on top of the pool table. I could hear voices in the kitchen, recognizing Cole and Mitch. I scurried out of the house as fast as my little legs could carry me.
I remembered that Maysie had most likely came and looked for me last night. Crap! She must think I was dead in a ditch somewhere. Or worse. She could know that I spent the night at Garrett’s house! How was I going to explain that one?
I was abducted by aliens and just now escaped. No. How about I was playing a riveting game of Scrabble and lost all track of the time?
I was done for.
Bad mistakes were Maysie Ardin’s MO, not mine. I felt like a miserable failure on all fronts. I was hung-over and ashamed. Not a good combination when you felt like throwing up all over your shoes.
I practically ran to my car and got inside. I started it up and was then compelled by some masochistic urge to look one last time toward the house. Curtains moved in a second story window and I knew that I saw the unmistakable outline of Garrett against the glass.
Crap, there it was again.
Regret.
And as I drove away from Garrett’s house, I wanted desperately to leave that unfortunate feeling behind but it took up quiet residence in my heart. And I feared it wouldn’t let go anytime soon.
My mind was a mess of hazy recollections from the night before and the memory of Garrett’s face when I essentially told him to fuck off. Man, I had been such a shrew.
I could remember talking to him on the couch last night. B
eing with him must have made some crazy sort of sense at some point.
I shook my head and turned on my radio, hoping the sound of angsty chick rock could drown out the remnants of my guilt.
My phone chirped from inside my purse. Digging it out, I glanced at the screen, feeling an encroaching sense of dread as I saw the number of missed calls and texts from Maysie.
Was it too late to make a run for it? Maybe I could head to Mexico and assume a secret identity. That way I could avoid the morning after explanations my roommate would be expecting.
So I took my time heading home. I stopped at McDonald’s and got myself a coffee. Then I decided I needed a few magazines. And while I was at it, I needed to fill my car up with gas.
And you know what, a lovely scenic drive on the back roads of Bakersville was just what the doctor ordered.
I had successfully prolonged the inevitable for a whole hour and a half. It was almost eight when I finally pulled into the apartment complex parking lot. I cut off the engine and sat there for a while.
Why was I so scared to go in and face Maysie? It could be because I felt like such a hypocritical loser. I was notorious for dishing out advice, telling my best friend how she should be living her life. Laying into her when she makes choices I deemed irresponsible. And yes, I had judged her for it. I hated that I had, but it didn’t change the fact that Judgmental was my middle name.
And here I was coming home, wearing the same gross clothes I had worn last night, still smelling like Eau de Garrett.
I finally headed toward the apartment. Just as I put my key into the lock, the door flung open and a very angry Maysie stood before me with her hands on her hips.
She grabbed me by the arm and yanked me inside, slamming the door behind me. She took in the sight of me, noticing my current state of disarray. Her eyes narrowed as she processed what my arrival this morning meant.
Then her furious expression changed and her lips split into a devious grin that was ten times more frightening.
“Oh my god! I want details!” Maysie pulled me into the kitchen where she already had the coffee maker going and cups set out on the counter as though she were waiting for me to show up.
“What the heck are you doing up at this hour?” I asked, hoping to delay the inevitable interrogation.
Maysie poured us both a cup of coffee and got out the creamer, handing to me. “I’ve been waiting for you, jerk face! You had me worried to death!” I took a sip and cringed. It was the worst coffee I had ever had. Maybe that was my roommate’s sadistic plan of revenge for worrying her; kill me with bad coffee and endless hounding for information. It was definitely the most horrendous death I could think of.
“Uh, yeah, sorry about that,” I said, hopping up on one of the stools by the island.
Maysie sat beside me and stirred her drink, watching me closely. “Yeah, well Jordan said he saw you go off with Garrett who told us he’d give you a ride home later. I argued that the last person in the world you’d want to drive you home was Garrett Bellows. But when I tried to find you…well let’s just say I got an eye full,” she said, poking my arm.
My neck and face flushed red and I felt as though I were on fire. Oh Jesus Christ. What the hell had been my problem last night? I wish I could recall exactly why sleeping with Garrett had seemed like a good idea.
“I’m a bit shocked, I must say. He was the last guy I would have ever guessed to hit the Riley Walker crazy sex radar. But I’ve heard he’s a tiger in the sack. Plus, he’s totally hot in that ‘I couldn’t give a crap about anything but making you come’ sort of way. Don’t you dare tell Jordan that I said that,” Maysie rambled. I was having difficulty keeping up with her at this point in my morning. And honestly, the whole thing was making my already pounding head, crack open so my brains could spill out on the floor.
I was in overload. I couldn’t wrap my head around the way my life had detoured in the last twelve hours. It was too much for my poor morning after brain to compute.
I hung my head, not meeting her eyes. “Can we not do this, Mays? I’m exhausted and I have to work tonight,” I pleaded, hoping if I sounded pitiful enough she’d stop.
Maysie was quiet and I looked up to find her staring at me strangely. “What?” I asked her.
She shook her head and gave me a smile. “Nothing. I just don’t understand you,” she stated, putting her mug in the sink.
“What do you mean? Just spit it out. My head hurts, I’ve already dry heaved a few times on the drive home. I’m not in the mood to play who’s smarter than Maysie,” I said shortly.
Maysie opened her mouth but then promptly shut it again. “Mays, baby? What are you doing? I don’t like waking up without you.” Jordan came into the kitchen and pulled his girlfriend into his arms, holding her tightly. She leaned into him and I gave an exaggerated cough. The Maysie and Jordan version of a donkey show would need to wait until I was safely out of the room. Unless they like wearing projectile vomit as a legit style.
Jordan looked over at me and smiled. “Hey girl. You just getting home?” he asked me incredulously. Okay, now I was getting annoyed. I could barely deal with the shocked questioning from my roommate. But I didn’t need a round of “I can’t believe Riley made a bunch of shitty decisions” from Jordan freaking Levitt.
I could barely stomach hypocrisy on a good day. So being force-fed a hefty dose of my own was beyond what I wanted to deal with right then. I threw my hands into the air in exasperation.
“Yes, I decided to play the slut kitten last night and engaged in a round of barely conscious sex. I don’t remember much about it. I don’t think I want to remember anything about it. So let’s just put this all in the I will never drink that much again category and move on,” I said loudly. I blew out a breath and walked passed the pair, heading to my room.
Maysie followed me and stood in the doorway. “It’s okay, you know,” she said as I pulled back the blankets on my bed so I could crawl in and forget last night ever happened.
“What?” I asked with more than a little annoyance.
“That you slept with Garrett. It doesn’t make you a slut. I’m just a little surprised is all. But we can talk about it later. Get some sleep before you grow your talons and claw everyone’s eyes out,” she said good-naturedly and with entirely too much supportive understanding for this time in the morning.
“We will not be talking about this later, Mays. There’s nothing to talk about. So put that thought right out of that head of yours,” I said stubbornly. I kicked off my shoes and got into bed. “Now I’m gonna try to sleep this hangover away before I have to work this evening,” I said pointedly.
And thankfully Maysie left it at that. After she closed the door, I found that no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get to sleep. I tossed and turned but every time I closed my eyes all I could see was Garrett’s face as I left this morning.
I had the feeling I had made a bigger mess than I realized.
“I’m so excited that we got chosen for this internship! Can you believe it, Riley? Out of all the seniors in the English department, we are the ones that get to work at the Bakersville Times for an entire semester! It’s gonna be epic!” Gracie Cook was practically bouncing in the passenger seat as I drove toward the local newspaper’s downtown office.
Even though I wasn’t as effusive as Gracie when it came to showing my enthusiasm, I could admit I was pretty damn excited. Gracie and I were both English majors with concentrations in journalism. We had been in the same classes for most of our college career.
At one time that had bugged the crap out of me. Gracie and I had only ever pretended to get along. We put on the happy smiles for Maysie’s sake since we were both friends of hers. However, last school year we had formed an uneasy alliance during the Maysie and Jordan Crazypalooza and had inexplicably become friends.
And once again the gods snickered in delight at throwing together the train wreck of all friendships. I seemed to have a lot of those. Gracie was the opposite of me in every way possible. She was perky and full of energy. I was…well…less perky.
But somehow, someway, over the last year, I found that I was less and less irritated by her chipmunk squealing and even found her…gasp…endearing. Sure, she looked like she stepped straight out of some deep south molly sue magazine. The girl spent way too much time on her makeup and lately was becoming entirely too acquainted with the drunk end of a bottle of vodka, but I dug her. She had a sharp edge to her that I could identify with. Even if she did hide it under layers of pastels and lip gloss.
The thing about Gracie is she played the part of the ditzy blonde but in reality she was one of the smartest people I knew. She had an almost photographic memory and I knew for a fact her GPA was almost as impressive as my own. Why she continued to act like the proverbial Scarecrow without a brain was beyond me.
We had found out a few weeks back that we had both been awarded the highly coveted Bakersville Times internship. To say it was a big deal was an understatement. Every senior in the English department vied for the chance to gain hands-on experience at the award winning newspaper. It opened doors that we all desperately wanted kicked open for us.
Sure, Bakersville was a small town, but its newspaper was one of the most respected on the east coast. It had a lot to do with Gary Findle, the editor in chief who had been a reporter for the Washington Post for almost twenty years. When he moved to Bakersville with his wife fifteen years ago, he took on the failing newspaper and turned it into what it is today.
So Rinard students wanting to break into journalism would sell their kidneys for the chance to learn from him. Three students were chosen out of hundreds and somehow, Gracie and I had earned the spots.
“Yeah, it should be pretty sweet,” I said, trying to affect a nonchalance I didn’t feel. Because inside I was bouncing as much as Gracie. But it would blow my too cool for school cover to scream like a banshee at the top of my lungs.
Perfect Regret ( BOOK 2) Page 5
