Page 13 of Desperate Temptations (Immoral Starts)

TWELVE

TRENT

I groan, hearing Ethan up and moving around. The room is pitch black, so we must have only been asleep for a couple of hours at most.

“Ethan?”

He shushes me, his footsteps padding across the carpet before his lips brush against my cheek.

“Go back to sleep,” he mutters and I smile, patting the bed next to me. He lies down and I pull the comforter over my shoulder, turning onto my side as he moves behind me. His chest is flush against my back and his arm is wrapped around my waist.

“You good?” I ask, the words slightly slurred as sleep threatens to pull me back under.

“Goodnight, Trent.”

I blink awake with a groan, shielding the morning sun from my eyes with my hand. It feels like I’ve been sleeping forever. I already know the bed is empty, but sigh anyway when I reach out and feel the cold sheets.

Climbing out of the bed, I take a shower, dreading whatever conversation’s going to come. I hadn’t meant to slip up the way I did, but it’s out and now we have to deal with it. I could feel how restless he was last night.

The apartment is still eerily quiet, and I frown as I get dressed and head to the living room.

“Ethan?”

There’s no answer, and I glance out at the balcony before coming around to the kitchen. A stone drops in my stomach seeing a single white sheet of paper lying on the surface. A forewarning that everything is going to change, I walk to it slowly and pick it up.

I’m sorry

I flip the paper over, but it’s blank on the other side. My hand falls to the counter as I stare at the note for a few minutes, unable to comprehend its meaning.

“Ethan?” I call out again, walking to the spare bedroom and through the living room. “Ethan?”

Dread coils in my chest and I swallow down the ache clawing up. I head back to my bedroom and grab my phone to call him.

Call not completed. The number you have dialed is unavailable.

I stare at the screen, my heart beating in my throat. My hands shake as I try to send a text. After a few minutes, it says the message cannot be delivered and I sink onto the bed.

Jumping up, I check through his closet and dresser, finding it empty as I suspected.

The reality that he left without even a goodbye steals my breath.

I sink onto the floor, staring at nothing as I try to force my lungs to take in air.

My chest hurts so profoundly and my eyes are dry, unable to comprehend thoughts or any feelings.

I rub my hands over my face before pulling at my hair and then laugh, shaking my head.

“Fuck me.” I groan and laugh again as the tears start and a sob climbs up my throat.

I knew I fucked up by saying what I did last night, but I didn’t think it would cause him to run. He’d promised that this wouldn’t ruin our friendship at the end of the day, and me loving him is nothing new.