Page 27 of Easy To Lose

I scroll down to see the pictures Morgan sent me from that changing room yesterday. The ones that were the catalyst for everything that happened last night. The images I still have on my phone.

How the fuck did she get into my phone?

I shake the thought out of my head and gather my clothes off the floor to get dressed. As much as I want to stay right here and bask in every single inch of Morgan and that sweet body of hers, I know I need to fix this. I will not be the cause of more problems for her. I will not let my past and my stupid decisions be the reason for her pain, I did that enough when we were teenagers.

I make my way across the room, sitting on the edge of the bed and just stare at her. The woman who I’d give everything up for, the person who has quickly become as essential as breathing. And in that moment, I know I will do whatever it takes to protect her from Bailey. Including lying to her.

I don’t plan to wake her up, but I can’t help the impulse as my fingers trace the line of her jaw, following the curve of her neck and down the center if her back. Her skin is so fucking soft, and I can’t help the low moan that escapes my throat at the feel of her under my fingers.

“If you’re going to tease me, then you’d better get undressed.” A chuckle escapes me as the weight of my cell phone presses against my leg, reminding me of what I still have to do.

“Sorry, gorgeous, but I’ve gotta go.” Her head lifts, eyes meeting mine as the guilt starts to rise within me. I’m not naïve to the fact that without me, this wouldn’t be happening until I took her again and again in the morning light. Instead, I’m leaving her naked, looking beautiful as the sunlight shines on her face.

“Leave? But it’s only…” She looks over at her clock and sees that it’s after nine. “Wow, I haven’t slept this late since college.” We both laugh as I brush the hair out of her eyes. She turns, taking the sheets with her, covering her chest. “Why do you have to leave?” God, the uncertainty in her eyes cuts me deep, but I lean forward and kiss her with everything I have, needing to show her without words what I can’t say right now. That no matter what happens, what happened last night was real, and that I love her no matter what.

“I just need to deal with something at the gym. I’ll be back before you know it.” I wink, giving her my best smile as I kiss her one last time, hoping whatever Bailey has planned doesn’t touch her.

* * *

Everything around me reminds me that I left Morgan alone, when all I want to do is be with her. Stay with her. But right now, I need to protect her in the only way I can, and that’s by keeping her out of this entirely.

Driving clears my head, always has. So, for the past few hours, I’ve simply driven around aimlessly, trying to think up a scenario where everyone wins, where there’s no drama. But I come up empty. The entire time, I tried to figure out how this could have happened at all. How the fuck did Bailey get those pictures? How am I going to convince her to delete them? And how am I going to get Morgan to forgive me? Because I’m not naïve enough to think I’ll get out of this unscathed.

“Fuck…” I mutter as a very familiar figure leans against the column of my front porch. Bailey looks like she always does in her tight short-shorts and tube top with her long, blond hair up in her signature ponytail. My eyes close as I lean my head back against the seat of the car, basking in the silence that I know will evaporate the second I get out.

“Come on, Owen, get out here,” Bailey says while tapping on my window, scaring the crap out of me. I look over, only to watch her arms cross over her chest, her hip jutting out as her foot starts tapping on the asphalt.

“Why are you here, anyway? I thought I was going to meet you at your place,” I mutter as I get out of the car and smirk at her sharp intake of breath as I push past her.

“I wanted to make sure I saw you.” I look back, rolling my eyes at the look of desire on her face, knowing she’s using this as a ploy to get me away from Morgan. And right now, it’s working. And I hate it.

“Well, you’re here, so let’s get this over with.” I open the front door, leaving it open as I head through the narrow hallway and into my kitchen. I want to be far away from any soft surfaces, because I know Bailey, and I know she will use whatever she can to get me to cave to her demands—and that includes her body.

“You know, for someone who claimed to love me not even two months ago, you’re being a real dick.” I can’t help the laugh that bursts from my chest because she can’t be serious. But when I meet her gaze, I realize she believes every word she just said.

I shake my head, going to the fridge and getting a beer. “You know, for someone who claims to still love me, you have a fucked-up way of showing it.” I take a swig of my beer, knowing its barely past morning but I need something to get me through this nightmare. As she saunters over and stands in front of me, her bottom lip between her teeth and her fingers playing with the hem of her top, I hold up my hands “Bailey, stop. No matter what you do, I do not want you back.” Her eyes narrow, and her entire body language changes.

“Seriously? You would rather be with that lump than with me?” Her eyes light up when she insults Morgan, and it makes me want to throw the beer bottle against the wall. But I rein in the anger, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes.

“Morgan has nothing to do with this.” I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. I should have listened to Matt when he told me to get rid of her months and months ago.

“She has everything to do with this! You broke up with me because of her!” she screams. I place my beer on the marble and fold my arms over my chest as I lean back against the kitchen counter. She’s not wrong. I did. “So, you’re not even going to deny it?” I take a deep breath, my hands going to my sides and grasping the edge of the counter behind me before I walk past her and out of the kitchen.

This is going to be a long day.

Chapter 23

Morgan

The sun streams into my room through the crack in the curtains, and I smile, loving the sore feeling cascading through every limb of my body. Last night was something out of a dream, and no matter how many times Owen woke me up for rounds, two, three, and four, it still seems surreal. I look at the clock and notice that it’s after eleven-thirty, I must have fallen asleep again after Owen left. As I sit up, the memory of him leaving feels almost like a dream, too.

Did I dream the whole thing? Was he even here last night? I wonder as I get up and head through the bedroom and into the living room, sinking down onto the couch. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my black dress abandoned on the hardwood floor, and it’s then that I know it wasn’t a dream. The way his fingers felt against the softness of my skin, the way my body molded to his as he took my mouth and devoured me whole.

The silence is deafening as I wait, wondering what I’m supposed to do now. Of all the things I was prepared for last night—the insecurities, the uncertainties, and the emotions—what I wasn’t prepared for was waking up without him next to me. All I want is to lay next to him, feel him, and know that everything he said was true. I find my phone on the floor, and when I pick it up, I expect to see a text from Owen letting me know when he’ll be done at the gym. Instead, there’s nothing. The time display reminds me that it’s been a few hours since he left, and as much as I try to shake the unsettling feeling coursing through me, I can’t.

Before I think better of it, I pull up Owen’s name and call, only for it to go straight to voicemail. The second I hear the beep, the sinking feeling sets in, and I take a deep breath, “Hey, Owen, umm, I just wanted to see when you’d be back.” I hesitate a beat, then continue. “Call me when you get this.”

Do not overreact, I think, hoping he’s just with a client and everything’s okay. I quickly pick up my cell once again and send a simple call me text to him, hoping he sees that in case he rarely listens to his phone messages.

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