Page 10 of Lesson Learned

He might know or perhaps he reacts to the misplaced belief in our false comradery, but he steps back, grinning as he waves me past in front of him and if I didn’t have a girl slung over my shoulder, I would show him exactly who he’s dealing with.

Show him in precise detail all the ways in which we’re not the slightest bit alike.

I walk through the club while beeping my driver, then meet him out front, bundling her into my car and getting the hell out of there while the going’s good. Still shaking, with rage at the bartender, with the delayed fear of being caught doing something wrong.

Last, I tremble with a renewed surge of lust at the exposed length of thigh on the girl beside me. The one whose head rests against my shoulder, whose weak hand curls on my chest as though I’m someone to be trusted.

As though I’m a much better person than I am.

CHAPTERTHREE

PAISLEY

I’m in the bath.The how and why escape me.

Bubbles rise in clouds from the water, tickling my nose. I sink a little, my right ear tipping underneath so it becomes muffled with a liquid earplug. I’m blowing onto the bubbles and giggling, while the man supporting me keeps a firm hold so I can’t fall too far.

Happiness fills my chest. I’m weirdly intoxicated but so lost to whatever I’m sailing on that I don’t care.

I have a vague memory of inhibitions, restrictions that I set in place for myself, but they’re such intangible thoughts I can’t grip hold of them long enough to remember how they work.

My eyes blink and hands stroke a washcloth over my body. Another blink and fingers are on my breasts, pinching at my nipples the way I love to be touched, rough and sharp and satisfying like there’s a cord drawn tight between my breasts and my clit.

There are lips on mine, a tongue thrusting inside my mouth like a bully. Blink. I’m lying on a bed, my hair still wet, a fluffy towel softly caressing me dry.

Blink.

I’m alone in the dark. Shivering. My head aches and my teeth feel like they’re biting on tinfoil, the sensation sinking so deep into my bones that my stomach heaves up a rancid burp.

I try to sit up, but the room washes away from me, leaving me spinning down a deep dark hole.

“Shh,” a voice soothes out of the darkness. Warm arms close around me, settling my nerves, calming my wretched stomach, making me feel loved and precious and safe. “Go back to sleep.”

Blink.

“I have to go out for an hour or so. Your phone’s on the side table, charging.” A hand plucks mine out from the heavy sheets and lays it on top of the device. The moment it lifts away, I snake it back under the covers, snuggling deeper as I sink back into sleep.

A buzzing noise wakes me. My phone screen lights up the room.

I lift it, staring at the message from Marnie, waiting for my slumbering brain to remember how words work.

“We just got back and you’re not here! Text me.”

Got back? Back from what? My phone tells me it’s just past four a.m. Who goes out at this hour?

I struggle upright, staring around the room, trying to work out where I am and why I’m not tucked in my boarding school bed.

Hazy memories slowly waft across my consciousness. Feeling good. The thrilling sensation of hands wandering across my body.

I wait for the sick sense of failure to clutch me as I understand I’ve broken another promise, the one I made to myself, but it doesn’t come.

Despite the circumstances, I feel good. Fantastic. My entire body hums.

There’s a lamp on the sidetable and I switch it on, only then thinking to check the bed beside me but it’s empty. I remember someone… the man from the queue. Was it him? Or was he just the one I thought about while I hooked up with someone else?

I clamber out of bed, naked, scanning the floor next to the bed for any divested garments but my borrowed dress isn’t there. There’s a disturbing aural memory of tearing fabric and guilt washes over me.

Bad enough I had to borrow the dress. Terrible to not be able to return it.

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