Page 14

HARLOW

I sit surrounded by white fluffy bubbles as the hot water burns my skin and tears track down my cheeks, but I don’t cry. I can’t. I’m numb.

My head throbs, reminding me of the colossal mistake I made last night and the whisky that fueled it. I never should have agreed to go to that hotel with him. Being inside that small room brought out a side of me that I’d rather never meet again. The weak girl who’d do anything for a distraction.

It worked. I forgot about my daily stresses, about what I’m about to face with my aunt, and my past that haunts every second of my life.

All of it was gone with one skilled kiss and caress of his fingers.

But that’s not how it should be. That’s how I used to deal with things.

I’m stronger, or at least I hoped I was.

Everyone keeps telling me that I’m a different person now. But one thing goes wrong in my life, and I fall back into old habits. Habits that took too long to break and a lifetime to regret.

I’m done with regrets. I’ve got a truckload that weigh me down on a daily basis. I do not need any more. Especially any that include a smooth-talking man with an addictive British accent.

Everything was fine until he rolled over and fell asleep, and all that was left was the girl I hated.

So, I did what I thought was for the best. I somehow got myself dressed and stumbled from the room. I liked to think it was somewhat elegant, but the reality was that I’d drank half a bottle of Macallan, so I probably bounced off each wall as I made my way toward the door.

I know what I was to him. A one-night stand.

If he was interested in anything else, he wouldn’t have taken me straight to a hotel room.

He’d have brought me home, given me a kiss to remember him by, and asked me out on a date.

But he didn’t. He got me to the closest bed and allowed me to dive headfirst into the perfect distraction: alcohol and sex.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

“Harlow?” Brooke’s voice calls through the house seconds after the front door slams shut.

I wasn’t surprised to find it empty when the taxi dropped me off sometime before dawn. Brooke makes a hobby out of spending her weekends in anyone’s bed but her own.

Her footsteps thunder up the stairs as she calls out again, and I know my solitude is coming to an end.

I rush to wipe the tears from my cheeks, expecting her to come crashing in at any moment. I don’t think for a second that it’ll cover up the fact that I’ve been crying. I’m sure my red-rimmed eyes will tell her everything in a flash.

She gets closer before the door handle twists and she pokes her head inside.

“Here she is. Did you have a—fuck, what’s wrong?” She races over, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, her brows pulled together as she looks over my face, trying to find signs for why I’m so upset.

I blow out a breath as I try to figure out how to answer that question.

Brooke has been by my side through everything.

She knows all my dark and dirty secrets, but watching it is very different to actually experiencing it.

She tries to understand, but it’s hard. She can tell me all she likes that things are different now, that I’m different, but it’s hard to believe it when I can so easily fall back into old habits.

“N-nothing. I’m just regretting last night.”

“Do not tell me that he was bad in bed. That man screams sex god. If my sex-o-meter is off, I’m going to be seriously pissed.”

“No, it’s not that. He was …” Her eyes widen in excitement. “Fine. I just shouldn’t have done it.”

She moves after a second and sits on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Why not? You deserve to have some fun. And it’s not like you did it with some random guy who was only interested in one thing.”

“Didn’t I? I feel like I’ve just taken five giant steps back.”

“Harlow, stop,” she begs. “This is nothing like that. You are not that person anymore.”

“I had a one-night stand in a hotel, B.”

“You’re making it sound like you did something seedy. You didn’t. Corey wasn’t just some random guy, and he clearly didn’t just want to get his leg over and move on.”

“How’d you figure that out?” I ask, interrupting her.

“Because he was at that bar thirty minutes after I messaged him. He wanted to see you again, even though you ran out on him the night before. If he only wanted a quick roll in the sheets, I’m sure there would have been some hussy he could have picked up without the threat of being kicked to the curb once again. ”

“I guess.”

“There’s no ‘I guess’ here. He wanted you. He jumped at the opportunity of a second chance.”

“But he took me to the closest hotel with only one thing in mind.”

“So? There could be a million reasons why he didn’t take you elsewhere. He might live with his mother or something.” I raise a brow at her. “Okay, yeah, he doesn’t seem like a mommy’s boy, but you never know.”

“So, what are you suggesting here, exactly?”

“I’m saying you shouldn’t write him off. Call him. See if he wants to meet up again.”

“I don’t think?—”

“Don’t forget him before you have any solid evidence. He could be the one?—”

“I highly doubt that.”

“You didn’t let me finish. He could be the one to help remind you how good men can be.”

I bark out a laugh and flick some bubbles at her when she stands and steps toward the door.

“I’m just saying, have an open mind. Everything happens for a reason. You fell into him for a reason.”

She slips from the room, leaving me with that little bit of advice to dwell on.

I sink back into the rapidly cooling water and close my eyes. My head spins with everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours. I should be focusing on my aunt right now, not have my head in the clouds over some Brit with a body built for sin.

By the time I emerge from the bathtub, the bubbles have long disappeared, and the water is uncomfortably cold.

I remove what’s left of last night’s make-up and cover myself in my favorite body lotion in an attempt to perk myself up a little before making my way back to my room.

I pull on a pair of leggings and an oversized hoodie with the intention of spending the day chilling out in front of the TV and hopefully catching up on some much-needed sleep.

As I descend the stairs, the familiar sizzle of frying bacon hits my ears seconds before the smell surrounds me. My mouth waters and I pick up my pace a little.

“Hungry?” Brooke asks when I join her in the kitchen and pull out a carton of orange juice from the fridge.

“Starved.”

“That would be all the exercise you had.” My cheeks heat despite the fact that she’s not looking at me.

“Hmm …” I mumble, pouring us both a drink and taking a seat at our table.

Brooke finishes up our sandwiches before placing a plate down in front of me.

“You do know that you’re not getting away with it, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” I say with a mouthful of delicious salty, smoked bacon.

“I want all the details from last night.”

“I already told you, it was good. Fun … while it lasted.”

“Oh, come on, you need to give me more than that.”

“He was …” I pause to think of the right word. “Mind-blowing.”

She stares at me for a beat, and I can almost see the excitement building behind her eyes.

“You rode him all night long, didn’t you?”

My face flames red. “Might have.”

“Yes, get in there, girl!”

“What about you?” I ask, turning this on her, not wanting to give her a play by play of my regretful evening. “You’ve only just got in; how was your night?”

“It was fine.” I narrow my eyes at her. It’s so unlike her to withhold any details about her conquests.

“It was fine? Wow, he must have really rocked your world. Was it the guy you were dancing with?”

“No, he disappeared not long after you left. It was just some guy. There won’t be a repeat.”

“When is there?” I ask, pushing my empty plate away from me.

She shrugs, totally unfazed.

“So, have you decided if you’re going to call him?”

I open my mouth to respond but soon discover that I don’t have the answer—at least, not the one she wants to hear.

“I’m going to lie down. Leave the washing up; I’ll do it later.”

“That’s it?” she calls as I leave the room. “Fine, run away.” Her voice is light, but I can’t help wondering how true her words are.

She ignores my parting comment, because by the time I get to the top of the stairs, she’s crashing around in the kitchen, tidying up.

I don’t make it to my bed. Instead, I come to a stop at my dressing table and fall onto my stool as I stare at the photograph of me standing with my parents and little sister when I was a kid.

Reaching out, I run my fingertip over each of them.

I desperately try to remember what it was actually like to touch them, how warm their skin was, how they smelled, what their voices sounded like.

Some days it feels like only yesterday they were taken from me, but others, I almost feel like I’ve lived my entire life without them.

My eyes drift to the frame slightly behind them of my aunt and me the day I graduated college—something I never thought I’d be able achieve during my last few years at high school.

She was the only one who was able to break through the dark haze I was drowning in and make me look forward.

I’ll forever be grateful for what she gave me.

I blow out a breath, making the piece of paper stuck to my mirror flutter. I stare at the drawing I did so long ago.

“Today could be the day, you know.” I didn’t hear her join me, so the sound of Brooke’s voice startles me.

I look over at her to find her resting her hip against the doorframe with her arms over her chest.

“Maybe,” I say, but it’s sarcastic at best.

“You should go and see Snake.”

“Who the fuck is Snake?”

“The guy who inked Fletch and Reese. A few of the others, too.”

“You are aware that they’re going to take a restraining order out on you soon, right?”