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I wiggle into my shorts and a shirt that clings to my body. Bravely, I crack open Weston’s door and catch the sound of a high-pitched voice. A woman. I gulp hard.
Sucking in a deep breath, I remind myself I asked for a situationship only. Does he really have a secret girlfriend and lied to me?
He told me I could do whatever I wanted, so I decide to skip down the stairs, my wild hair bouncing with each step. They both stop talking when I enter the room. Weston’s arms are wrapped around her, and she seems upset. I recognize her gorgeous face. She’s the same woman who complimented me on my Valentino dress in the lobby. Does she live at The Park too?
“Oh,” she says, noticing me. “Oh. Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you weren’t alone,” she says to Weston, and they pull apart.
“It’s okay,” he says.
I feel a prick of something on my skin. Is thatjealousy?
“Apologies for interrupting,” she whispers, creating space between them. “Can we talk soon?” she asks with a pretty smile.
Her dark brown hair cascades elegantly down her shoulders, and her eyes are crystal blue, almost gray. The light reflects off a diamond bracelet on her wrist as she tucks hair behind her ear.
What bothers me the most is they actually look good together. And they were holding one another.
“Yes. We can get together this week. Just text me,” he replies, stepping away to walk her out.
I make my way toward the kitchen, suddenly feeling parched as an unease takes over.
Their voices fade as they continue chatting with the door closed, but the words remain a mystery. A few seconds later, Weston saunters into the kitchen, a smirk playing on his lips, which were buried between my legs less than twenty minutes ago.
“Isthatyour secret girlfriend?” I ask, trying to keep my tone casual despite the storm brewing in my chest.
His brows lift in surprise. “You’re jealous, and it’s pretty fucking cute.”
Am I under his spell, like all the other stupid girls who have been obsessed with him over the years?
“What? No.” I roll my eyes, managing to smile at him.
The truth is, Iam. I saw how she looked at him, that starry-eyed gaze, and how his expression softened when their eyes met. They were holding each other in a hug, and I sensed a moment that felt too personal. Like a secret was shared, and I wasn’t supposed to witness it.
“And what if I said she was the woman I’d been seeing? Are you sure you’d be okay with that?” he asks, his playful demeanor evaporating, replaced by something more serious.
The mood grows heavy as emotions crawl through me. Blood floods my head, and I feel like I’m drowning. I shouldn’t feel like this.
He doesn’t say anything, allowing the uncomfortable silence. It’s like a strong current pulling me under.
“Think about that stirring feeling. Sit in it and consider it before making your decision becausethat’swhat you’re okay with, Carlee. That’s what you’re asking of me,” he says.
His tone makes my stomach twist.
“I understand that. I just want you to be happy.” I glance up at the clock, grimacing as I realize it’s almost three.
Exhaustion quickly washes over me. The roller coaster of emotions, the dizzying highs and crushing lows, has left me breathless.
I walk past him, forcing a smile, trying to mask my spiraling thoughts. “Thanks for the reminder, bestie.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies.
“She’s gorgeous,” I say. “How long have you known her? A year?”
“Averylong time.”
His gaze follows me until I slip out of sight. Seeing him embrace someone else isn’t something I can easily digest. Tonight was a wake-up call. It’s a loud, blaring internal siren. Maybe this is proof that I’m not emotionally capable of maintaining a friends-with-benefits arrangement withhim.
Our attraction is more than purely physical, and that’s when situationships grow dangerous. It’s how people fall in love, and I don’t know if we’re capable of that right now. Heartache isn’t something I’m searching for. My heart still feels far too fragile to risk it. And his is still in ashes.