Page 58 of Don't Let Me Go (Don't Let Me 2)

“I can’t,” I lie as my head pops through the neckline. Although, I guess it isn’t entirely false. I’m not sure my emotions can stick around after the night I’ve had. I need to clear my head. I need to remind myself of the parameters of my relationship––or lack thereof––with Theo. Because I’m not naive enough to think sex automatically means a relationship. Especially not with the man of the hour. I know this. But knowing it and feeling it are two very different things. I need…a minute. Or an hour. Or a lifetime. Not that I’ll get it. Theo is Colt’s best friend. He isn’t going anywhere. Not in the long run.

Ooo, a run.

A run sounds good. That’s what I need. I need a solid run. Yeah. A solid run sounds perfect, actually. Abso-freaking-lutely perfect.

“You okay?” Theo asks, eyeing me carefully. Like he wants to know what I’m thinking. Like he wants to hold me again. To quiet my racing thoughts.

Does he look at every girl this way after he’s had sex?

Not that I care. Because I don’t. Nope. I’m just peachy. Hell, I’m better than peachy. I just had incredible sex. Sex most girls would dream about. And I wasn’t an idiot when I asked him to sleep with me. I knew the deal. I understood the terms. He doesn’t get attached. So neither should I.

I nod, my head bobbing up and down. “Yup. Just great. Thanks for…taking one for the team.” I force a smile, pick up my shoes from the ground, and head toward the door. “I’ll see you around.”

“Blake…”

I slip out of the bedroom before he has a chance to stop me and make my way upstairs. I can feel people’s eyes on me. Probably because my shoes are dangling from my fingers, but what do I know? Maybe people have a weird sixth sense when they’re exposed to someone who recently lost their virginity. Maybe it’s why they’re staring. I don’t know? Anything’s possible, right?

Thankfully, Burrows isn’t around as I sneak through the house and toward the front door. The cool concrete feels good against my bare feet. Refreshing almost. Cathartic. Like I’m alive. Like I’m not caught in a dream world where the love of my life is my brother’s best friend, and he didn’t just take my virginity because I twisted his arm, but because he wanted it. He wanted to be my one and only. The same way I’ve always wanted him to be.

Which is a freaking joke when I really think about it. I’m not entirely delusional. It’s Theo Taylor. The skanky, one-and-done hockey captain we all know and love. He only slept with me because I backed him into a corner. Tomorrow, he’ll act like it didn’t even happen.

And so will I.

Dodging between cars parked along the road, I head toward home. And once I’ve rounded the corner, I slip my shoes on, grateful I’d chosen a pair of white Nikes, and run along the dark street, soaking up the solitude. The endorphins. My lungs expanding and retracting in rhythm to my footsteps. And the promise that tomorrow’s another day.

I can do hard things.

Even if it includes facing the guy who took my virginity with zero intention of claiming my heart with it.

Yup. Piece of cake.

Cool.

Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool.

19

BLAKELY

With my feet tucked under my ass, I sip cinnamon tea from my mug. The dark settles around me like a warm blanket as the silence in the quiet house engulfs the space.

It’s peaceful.

Comforting almost.

Which is a stark contrast to the chaos inside my head.

I can’t sleep.

I can still feel the ache between my thighs.

Every time I move, my muscles twinge slightly.

It’s evidence, I guess.

I didn’t make it up.

I didn’t imagine it.

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