Page 84 of The Relationship Clause

Holy crap.

I jump, realizing too late I’m startling her awake as I try to shove her body off of mine. She wakes with a start, eyes wide until they meet mine.

“Owen!” She reaches for me, but I’m still trying to create space between us, still trying to figure out how we got here. There are gaps in my memory. Big, wide, scary gaps. We’re at the ski lodge in Vail, that much has come back to me, but I don’t remember anything from the time I went to the bar until a few seconds ago.

“Owen, Owen, it’s okay. Calm down.” Junie’s soothing voice has no effect though. I have too many questions.

“W-what happened?” I stammer. “What—Why are we—I mean, how did we…?”

Junie’s hand makes contact with my bare shoulder, and the sensation is an immediate relief to my senses. Despite my unanswered questions, I allow myself to settle down. The relief doesn’t last long, though, because I look down and more dread swallows me whole. I’m wearing my underwear. And yes, I normally wear underwear, so that’s not the surprising part. What’s surprising is the fact that I’m wearing only underwear. And I was in bed with Junie.

I cover my face with my hands, shame filling me. “Junie, did I—I mean, did we…?” I can’t even bring myself to finish the sentence. Don’t get me wrong, physical intimacy is something I’ve thought about happening with Junie, but not this soon and definitely not like this. Was I kind to her? Was I a gentleman? Did I push this on her or wait for her consent?

All these questions and more smash into my skull like a battering ram, vinegar pouring into a wound. My breathing comes in rapid succession. Part of me is furious while the other is full of embarrassment.

But then Junie’s arms are around me. I’m frozen like a chunk of ice, but she’s warm and sure and here, not upset or afraid or anything she would be if I’d done something I shouldn’t have.

“No,” she says firmly. She places both hands on either side of my face. “Look at me, Owen. Nothing happened last night.”

“Really?”

“Really. We didn’t even kiss. You were drunk, but you were a perfect gentleman. Trust me, I wouldn’t have stuck around if you weren’t.” She lets go and grabs a pair of neatly folded sweatpants and a white t-shirt from the bedside table. Mine. I’m not sure when she grabbed them, but I’m grateful and pull them on quickly.

Relief washes over me, and I can breathe again. I gather Junie in my arms, more grateful than ever that she’s here with me now. “How did we end up in bed together?”

She doesn’t answer right away, and I pull back to get a better look at her. She bites her lip in that cute way that I love. “Well, you actually kind of asked me to stay with you. You said you didn’t want to have any nightmares.”

Ah. Right. Those.

I pinch the bridge of my nose. I haven’t thought about the bad dreams I used to have in a long time, so the fact that I told Junie about them last night says something about my state of mind.

“Do you have nightmares a lot?” she asks.

“I used to. It’s been a long time since I’ve had one, but I guess being drunk made me afraid I’d have them again. They started when I was a teenager when my parents would fight badly in front of Kiera and me. I couldn’t ever shake them. There was a time in college when I tried to drink the dreams away, but that only made them worse. I committed to never drinking again after that. So I don’t know what happened last night…”

I ordered ginger ale at the bar, I remember that distinctly. It’s the drink that looks the most like beer, so it’s easier to blend in with people who are drinking.

I remember meeting with Craig, and then…

“You were drugged,” Junie says, voice small. “At least, that’s what you said you think happened.”

More memories start coming back to me, but finding them is like swimming through a swamp. “Yeah. I remember going to the bar and getting my drink. I remember seeing Craig. Actually, I think he’s the one who found me. We talked about skiing and my dad a bit. And then…” That is when things get more foggy. I scratch my head as if it could possibly help jog my memory. “He asked about Em3rge. I think I tried asking about his wife’s daughter, but he kind of avoided my questions.”

Another memory comes back to me, clear and sharp.

“He asked about Phase Three.”

But that’s not possible. He should have had no knowledge about that. Only my employees at our staff meeting could have known. Which means someone must have told him.

Junie’s eyes snap to mine. “He did?”

“Yes. He asked about it specifically. I’m sure of it.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him…” I rack my brain, but it’s no use. I can’t remember what I said. Whether I told him it was all fake in order to weed out the mole or not, I have no clue. But I know one thing for sure: Craig is the one who drugged me, so whatever is going on with his wife and step-daughter, Breanna, he’s part of it too.

And I’m going to find out exactly what part he’s playing.

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