Page 76 of Bad For A Weekend

“Were you trying to make it happen?”

“I had a hunch and went with it. I was right, and fuck me, beautiful, it was the biggest turn-on of my life.” I kiss her again, stealing as many as I can before I have to leave her. I’m already on borrowed time since Brandy could come home at any moment.

I’m not sure if Ziggy and Sara knowing I’ve slept with Baylor will get out to Brandy or Corey, but I’d prefer to be gone by then. Call me a pussy, but I like to think I’m more of a self-preservationist.

“Does loving everything you did to me make me a masochist?”

I love how honest and unashamed she is with me. I guess once you know the deepest and darkest, everything else feels easy to talk about.

“As long as you derive pleasure from it and it’s consensual, what does it matter what it makes you?”

“I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s just weird not knowing something about yourself like that.”

“The only way to know something is to experiment.” It hurts me to tell her the truth because the next person she experiments with won’t be me, and there are a lot of assholes out there with silver tongues and nefarious intentions. I need to remember Baylor is a smart girl and a good judge of character.

She yawns, and her body grows heavier. I tickle up and down her spine, hoping to put her in a deep enough sleep that I can sneak out without her complaints. I’m not strong enough to fight her. Not right now when the air is thick with the scent of our sex, and I’m so full of love for her.

Eventually I hear the soft snores of someone who has had a long day. I slowly ease my arm out from under her and stand. We were on the bed in the wrong direction, so I carefully lift her up and lay her back down. It’s probably chauvinistic of me, but I love knowing I can pick her up and place her where I want her.

I get dressed, then run warm water over a washcloth to clean her up the best I can. She must really be out because she doesn’t even stir. Once she’s washed, I cover her up and quickly clean the rest of the mess we made, not wanting to saddle her with it. After one last kiss on her soft lips, I leave, flipping out the light and shutting the door behind me.

I reset the alarm when Baylor and Ziggy got home, but I want to do a perimeter check and walk-through before I attempt any sleep. I’m startled when I walk into the living room and find Ziggy still on the couch, messing with his phone.

Fuck.

“I’m judging by the sounds coming from her room that you made up?” he asks nonchalantly.

I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

“Don’t ever hurt her again.”

“I can’t promise that because I got fired after what happened tonight. She’s going to need you because I think it’s best if I disappear when we get back.”

“Fine,” he says in a flat tone.

“Just fine? I thought you’d rip me a new asshole with that news.”

He stands, carefully setting Sara’s feet back onto the sofa. “Yeah. Fine. If you’re not man enough to fight for her, good fucking riddance.”

“It’s not that easy. I’m a grown man. She’s in fucking high school.”

“I know all the facts. But I also know that if you aren’t even willing to try, you’re trash. Even if you can make her speak in tongues.” He walks through the kitchen and down the hall to his room.

His words burn me to the ground, but I take them in, knowing I’ve earned them. I could fight for her. I could cause a rift between her and her dad so deep they might never recover. What kind of man would that make me? There’s no good answer here.

Our flight leaves Tulum at three in the afternoon the next day, but you’d think it was an early flight judging but the state of its five passengers. Brandy has dark shades on and noise-canceling headphones to combat her hangover. Ziggy is broody and eyeing me like a hawk. Sara has been to the toilet three times, and we haven’t even taken off yet. And Baylor looks defeated, her eyes fixed out her window and a blanket wrapped tightly around her.

I take a seat in the back of the small plane, far from where everyone else has convened. The pilot announces it’ll be a smooth flight, and the doors close.

It’s an uneventful few hours, and soon, we’re landing. I won’t get a goodbye. Hudson texted that he’ll be waiting at the airport to pick everyone up. Except me. I’ve been instructed to go to my parents’ house, where my things will be delivered later today.

I feel like a chastised child, but I don’t argue because there is no argument.

After deplaning, Baylor spots Hudson standing outside the black SUV and whips her head to look at me in confusion.

“Why is he here?”

“He’s taking you home and will be staying in the pool house until he finds a replacement.”

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