Page 36 of Bound By Mistake
I begged off going out clubbing tonight, telling my friends I must have picked up a chill while I was camping. Since I’ve been quiet and distracted all week, my work colleagues believed the excuse.
I should have gone. Now I’m alone with my thoughts, I find I don’t want to consider them. Why the hell didn’t I ring them back?
Well, it’s too late now. It’s the weekend, so I’m pretty sure their logistics firm is closed. Sure as hell, no one will be answering the phone at seven pm in the evening, anyway.
What the heck am I doing, sitting here moping like I’m mourning over the end of a relationship? I knew them for like five minutes, and we didn’t even exchange pleasantries.
Just a shit ton of bodily fluids.
“Argh!” I muffle the scream in my hands as I cover my face, trying to shake off this stupidity, so when my doorbell chimes, I’m honestly glad of the distraction. Maybe my friends decided to call by and drag me out after all. I should go, I decide. Get back on the proverbial horse, so to speak, and reclaim my life.
I pull open the door without checking, a quip ready on my tongue. One which dries up and steals all my saliva as I come face to face with the same three men who have haunted my dreams. Both sleeping and waking.
My throat is too dry to get any words out. Just as well, since my mind’s a complete blank.
“Sierra…” Gray says with uncharacteristic uncertainty. “May we come in?”
“I - Of course,” I croak hoarsely, as I step back and pull the door open so they can pass.
Am I dreaming again?
I could almost believe it, except my dreams of them are never so mundane.
“Um… have a seat,” I murmur, gesturing to my lounge. “I’ll put some coffee on.” With that, I escape to the kitchen and busy myself with the expresso machine while I attempt to pull myself together.
What are they doing here?
How did they find me?
What do they want?
I guess I’m about to find out.
Assembling a tray with mugs, sugar and creamer, I walk unsteadily back to the living room, my nerves causing the contents to rattle until Cain approaches and takes it from me, setting it on the coffee table.
“Thanks,” I murmur, still wanting to pinch myself to see if this is real.
I might have been daydreaming about them, but now they’re here, what the hell am I supposed to say?
In fact, considering they’ve sought me out, presumably with a purpose in mind, this all feels a bit stilted.
“Sierra,” Gray begins - it seems like he’s the spokesperson for the trio. I’d gotten that same impression when we were together. “I, ah… that is your name, yeah?” he asks, oddly unsure of himself.
“It is,” I confirm, perching on the edge of an armchair and clasping my hands together while I wait to hear what they have to say.
“Shit, of course it is, I know that. What a stupid thing to say,” he mutters, almost to himself.
God, this is awkward. Why did I ever think it was a good idea to try and get in touch? Oh yeah, because I couldn’t get them out of my mind… but this? This is excruciating.
I busy myself doctoring my coffee to give myself something to do, then bring the mug to my mouth with both hands in an attempt to calm the jitters I still have. Gray, Erik and Cain follow suit, and finally, with a glance at his friends, Gray continues. “Look,” he sighs. “I guess there’s no easy way to say this except to just spit it out…”
I put down my coffee, instinctively feeling the need to set it aside so I don’t spill it. It was a good call.
“Sierra -fuck!- I don’t know what to say.”
I think he’s still talking to himself with that comment.
My heart races as I watch Gray struggle for words. The tension in the room is palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Erik and Cain sit silently, their eyes darting between Gray and me.
