Page 19 of Defining Us

Hysteria and shame joined forces, bringing every possible worst-case scenario to the forefront of her mind. And that was why, when he returned and leaned in for a kiss, her hands shot to his chest without thinking.

She pushed him away and said, “You need to go.”

SIX

“You want me to go?”he asked, the question low and hoarse.

His stricken features almost made her weep, but dozens of feelings battled for dominance. Because no, a huge part of her didn’t want him to go. Especially not when he looked so devastatingly handsome—all rugged and wild after their frantic coupling. His torso glistened with perspiration, and the dark strands of hair were tousled. Her ultimate fantasy now a reality.

But profound dread was winning the emotional war raging within her.

She hastily pulled her skirt down, setting herself to rights—at least as much as she could when her blouse no longer contained any buttons. Her eyesight floated to the mess on the floor, and the disarray sent another tremor of terror through her. Heavy breaths sawed in and out of her lungs as she knelt and grabbed her discarded panties, then used the fabric to wipe away the droplets of moisture on the hardwood.

“Yes, I want—I want—you should just—” she stammered, her brain so scrambled that lucid sentences were a chore.

Joel knelt beside her. “Mallory, it’s okay. Just talk to me.”

“I can’t, I can’t. Oh God.”

One large hand tenderly clasped her own. “Deep breaths.”

“This isnota panic attack,” she snapped, pulling away.

Her ferocious reaction momentarily stunned her, even though she’d spoken the truth. Panic attacks were extreme reactions to threats that were often not based in reality, but the danger she’d created was alarmingly tangible. She was overcome with the magnitude of what she’d done. Of how she’d threatened her livelihood and betrayed his relationship with Christine all in one night.

“Then what is it?” he asked, a measure of bitterness embedded in his tone as he grabbed his T-shirt and wiped his hands with it.

“It was a mistake.”

The lie burned her mouth. Made her want to shriek with anguish. But she said it nonetheless, and his entire form jolted at the insult. Her refusal to look at him was only making the situation worse, but she’d crumble completely if she lifted her gaze to his own.

“A mistake,” he repeated slowly, his delivery devastating.

“This shouldn’t have happened.” To her horror, the tears she’d tried to subdue broke free and streamed down her cheeks. “Please. Just go.”

Joel’s labored breaths rippled with distress, but he didn’t respond. With her head lowered, she felt him rise to his feet, heard him buckle his belt, and then the heavy steps of his work boots pounded the floor as he departed. The slam of the front door pulled a sob from deep within her, the sounds of her grief mixing into the cacophony of the storm.

The rain didn’t stop, nor did her tears. They trickled down her face as she gathered the fallen books and placed them back onto the shelves, a librarian to the very end.

As expected,the rainfall continued, and it didn’t help Mallory’s wretched mood. But she went through the motions, arriving at the library early to prep the volunteers working the book sale. Traffic was slow when the doors opened at nine that morning, but it picked up an hour later and remained steady. People went wild over the silent auction, the bids climbing as the day went on.

Mallory wished she could enjoy it, but her spirits were muddied by last night’s events, and guilt ate away at her as each hour passed. The blank evaluation form taunted her from the desk, and she could barely fathom getting through her date with Tyler that night. Especially considering how her whole body ached, deliciously sore after last night’s exertion.

She wasn’t surprised one iota when Joel didn’t make an appearance at the sale. The gift card for Black Cat Bakery was destined to belong to someone else, and something as trivial as that made her heart ache alongside her body.

When closing time rolled around, Mallory and Vivian sat behind the circulation desk and counted the profits while the rest of the staff and volunteers packed the leftover books, stashing them away in the storage room until the next sale. Once the winning bids for the auction items were factored in, Vivian’s hands raised with elation.

“That’s double what we made in the last sale,” she whooped.

Mallory managed a tight smile. She collected the last few dollars and placed the cash in the lockbox. “I’ll email the winning bidders on Monday.”

“We’ll have to make the auction a new tradition. Fantastic idea, Mallory.”

The praise fell flat, and shame threatened to swallow her whole. It hadn’t even been a full day since she’d hooked up with Joel, making a mess of this place, and she could barely look Vivian in the eye. How was she supposed to keep this secret and continue working here? It might mean losing her job—losing everything she’d worked so hard to establish for herself—but she couldn’t function if she didn’t come clean.

“You know Joel Foster?” Mallory began, her stomach in knots.

“Rawr. Sure do.”

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