Page 17 of Room Seventeen

“But—”

Standing up, Xander grabs his shirt and pulls it on. “G, this was her fantasy—one anonymous night with the three of us. She got what she wanted. What comes next is not up to us.”

I suck my breath in. Is now the time? Do I go out there and make my presence know?

“Nothing comes next,” Darian says, knocking the wind out of me. “One night. That’s what the invitation said, that’s what we agreed to. Once we walk out of this door, this night, this fantasy is over. I don’t want to dwell on what we did anymore.”

I stumble back into the bedroom, my eyes filling with tears. Garrett might want me, or the idea of me, but Darian and Xander seem pretty content with letting this be a one-time thing. My heart shatters into a million pieces as the fantasy of having more with them crumbles before me. I hear some more grumbling, but I can’t make out their words with the blood pounding in my head. I feel a headache coming on, foresee spending the day in bed, and suddenly want this night to be over.

I need them to be gone.

Yawning loudly, I purposely stumble into the door, closing before reopening it. I walk out of the bedroom to find all three men turned toward me, Darian and Xander now completely dressed, their unaffected masks firmly in place.

Garrett speaks first. “You’re up.”

A fix my face with a smile. “Yeah, I can’t believe I nodded off like that. That’s so rude of me.”

“Well, we did wear you out.” He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Xander swallows audibly, and then walks toward me with Garrett’s shirt in his hand. He shoves the shirt into Garrett’s chest and then pulls me into his side with a one-armed hug like half-assed friends give, and not lovers who explored every part of each other. “Hey, sweetheart. We had fun last night, didn’t we?”

“We sure did.” My voice cracks as I fake a nonchalance I don’t feel.

He leans down and kisses my cheek. “Thanks for picking us to fulfill your fantasy.”

“Yeah, thanks for coming.” I blush at my double entendre, the tension flowing off these three men too palpable to ignore. I need to get these guys out of here, now, before the waterworks start, and I cry myself into hiccups. “So, uh, I have to return the room soon and should probably clean up before I do that.”

Darian tilts his head toward the door, but his eyes are on the floor. “We were just about to take off. We didn’t want to wake you, but since you’re up…” He walks over and gives me a one-armed hug like Xander, pulling me into his side and kissing my other cheek.

They both let go of me at the same time, and the coldness I feel from the lack of their touch sends chills up my spine. Opening the door, Darian walks out first without looking back, and grunts over his shoulder, “Hurry up, Garrett.”

Xander follows behind him, but at least has the decency to look over his shoulder and give me a small smile. The door closes, and I’m standing alone with Garrett as he slowly pulls on his shirt. His jaw is tight, and his eyes burn with anger as he stares at the carpet in front of him.

“Did you have a good time?” I ask, because I have no idea what else to say. I can’t stand to see Garrett angry, and even though I’m not sure why he is, I don’t like us ending our night together this way.

He looks over at me, his gaze trailing up and down my body, his face relaxing just a bit. “It was the best time of my life, baby.”

I bite my lip and kick at the carpet with my toe. “I’m sorry it’s over.”

He takes a deep breath and sits down, pulling on his socks and shoes. “Does it have to be? Over, that is.”

“Well, the invitation asked for one night, right? I can’t expect you guys to give me more than you already have.”

There’s silence between us as he finishes pulling on his shoes. He stands up, faces me, and although there are only a handful of steps between us, he feels a million miles away. “This is such bullsh—”

Xander steps through the door and clears his throat. “Your ride is waiting, G.”

Silent tears fall as I stand still and wait for someone to make a move. Garrett runs his fingers through his hair, his shirt clenched in his fist, and walks out the door without another word or a kiss goodbye.

I stare at the door for an eternity; the tears coming faster as every second ticks by. When they don’t come back, I turn on my heel and run into the bathroom, turning on the shower to its hottest setting. Then I grab the spirit gum remover and a handful of cotton balls, and work on removing the mask that now represents the best and worst night of my life. The bathroom fills with steam as I work around the edges of the mask, finally pulling it off in a painful rip that takes off the end of my eyebrow. I don’t care about my face, though, not when my heart hurts so badly.

Stepping into the shower, I take the soap and shampoo down to the floor with me as I finally let the tears loose; the sobs racking my body. I bawl until the shower water cools, and my cries have turned to hiccups. Even after I turn the water off, I continue to sit on the tile floor and cry until my head pounds from the effort. When I don’t think I have another teardrop left, I stand up, pull on my robe, and flop down on the bed.

I wasn’t lying about needing to turn the room in, although I have a little more time than I let on. Otherwise, I’d be content to lie down and inhale their scent from the sheets until I feel asleep again.

There’s a rap at the door and my heart stills as I hear a key enter the lock.

“Ivy?” I hear Jenna enter the room.

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