Page 19 of In Too Deep

11

A ringing cellphone wrenches me from sleep. My head is laying on a bare chest, my arm draped around a sculpted torso, a hand lovingly stroking my head. Even in my lethargic state, I know they belong to Lawrence. It’s why I’m continuing to lie here, refusing to open my eyes.

Lawrence and I made love, there’s no other way to describe it. The first time was quick and needy, years of desire coming to a head. The second time was slow, intimate, as if we were truly one.

I want to bask in this feeling a little bit longer. The moment we leave this bed reality is going to hit me in the face.

Hard.

“KitKat?”

“Hmmm…” I drag my hand across his abdomen, my nails gently scratching his skin the way I used to when we were younger, and he moans in contentment.

“God, that feels nice. You have no idea how much I’ve missed it. As much as I don’t want this to end, I feel I should let you know your phone has been blowing up. It might be important.”

Shame floods my senses, already knowing who’s trying so desperately to reach me. Spencer. My boyfriend. The man I betrayed for another. The same man who has been nothing shy of perfect the past nine months. I don’t know how to face him after this, or what to say. He’s going to hate me. I’ll lose him for sure.

An icy panic runs through my veins as I try to process the thought, and my phone begins to ring again. This time, I sit up to reach for it, my feet swinging over the side of the bed when I see the name on the screen. My gaze avoids Lawrence as I throw on my robe, hurrying out of my bedroom to answer it.

“Hey.” My voice is still nearly a whisper as I creep down the hall to the living room.

“Hey. I was starting to worry about you. Were you sleeping?”

He sounds so loving and concerned, guilt twists in my gut as I pace around my coffee table. “Yeah. I didn’t get much sleep last night and ended up calling out of work.”

“I’m sorry I woke you. I’ll let you go so you can rest. My shift ends in a couple hours, do you want me to come over? I could bring you something to eat.”

I freeze with fear, as if he’s about to walk through the door now, my head frantically shaking. “Oh, no. I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach.” It isn’t a lie, I do feel nauseous, but he doesn’t need to know I feel that way because I cheated on him. “I should probably get some more sleep so I can start fresh tomorrow.”

I plop down on my couch as my head spins.

“Okay…I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”

My heart sinks, tears pricking my eyes. I’m a horrible person. “Love you too.”

Disconnecting the call, I throw my phone on the couch and allow my tears to fall.

“Is that true?” Lawrence’s voice causes me to jump. My eyes shoot up to find him leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his bare chest, jeans hanging low on his hips. “Do you love him?”

My head falls, and my hands cover my face as I begin to sob. He rushes to my side. “Whoa, whoa, whoa…don’t cry.” He pulls me into his arms, kissing the top of my head. “What’s going on?”

I twist out of his hold, wiping the tears from my face as I come to my feet. “I’m the worst kind of human and a slut.”

His brow knits as he shakes his head. “Hold on now, don’t talk about the woman I love that way.”

I hiccup a sob as more tears fall. “Don’t say that.”

He stands, his head tilted as he approaches me with caution. “Say what? That I love you? What’s going on? I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”

His hands cup my face, and there’s fear in his eyes as he studies me. Averting my gaze, I take two steps back. “I fucked up. We can’t do this.”

He lets out a harsh breath. “You said you were sure. Are you really doing this now when your smell is still all over me? Did you have a different experience than me in that room? Because from my point of view, we just made love in there, and I don’t see how that can be a mistake. When it comes to love, even wrong can be right. What isn’t acceptable is you staying with someone you don’t love out of some sense of obligation.”

My shoulders square as I narrow my eyes at him. “What makes you think I don’t love him?”

He lets out a condescending laugh, throwing his head back dramatically before his angry glare lands on me. “You really want me to answer that? I mean, the way you were moaning my name less than an hour ago, for starters.”

“Get out,” I screech, pointing to my front door. “We’re done here.”

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