Page 36 of Coty

“Kayla.”

Nope. We’re not talking. “Get your clothes and get out now, or I’ll shoot you.”

“You wouldn’t. You don’t mean that. You’re just shocked and confused.”

Oh, I’m more than shocked and confused. I’m pissed.

“Oh, I most definitely mean it. Get out now, Coty.” I jerk the nightstand drawer and pull out my 22.

“Kayla?” At least now he sounds worried. Only took a gun to show him I’m serious.

I turn and aim the gun at him. “Leave. Now, or I’ll shoot.”

“Okay.” He scrambles around on the floor for his jeans and quickly slides them on. “I’m going. We’ll talk about this when you calm down.”

“Oh, I’m calm now.” I’m really not. “I want you out of my apartment.”

“I’m going.” He pulls his t-shirt over his head and snatches his cut from the bedpost. “Just don’t shoot me.”

I follow him to the living room with the gun still in my hand. I don’t have it pointed directly at him anymore. As upset as I am, I might accidentally pull the trigger.

He opens the door with his boots in one hand and turns around. “Kayla, please.”

“No.” I don’t let him finish. “This was wrong. We shouldn’t have.” I swipe the back of my hand under my nose. “Just go.”

“We really should talk.”

“No.” I raise the gun. I would never shoot him. He doesn’t know that, though. “Go, and don’t stalk me anymore.”

“Fine.” He steps backward out the door. “When you’re ready to talk, you know where to find me.” He turns, leaves the door wide open, and walks to his truck barefoot.

After I hear him drive out of the parking lot, I close the door and lock the deadbolt. I press my forehead against the door and let the tears fall. How did I have sex with him and not remember it? I’ve had a crush on him since I was thirteen. I’m my own worst enemy. Why did I freak out so badly?

Unable to stop crying, I go back to the bedroom and sit on the edge of the bed. My life is a mess. I’m the black sheep of my family. I’m a college dropout and will never get the job I always wanted. I’m emotionally broken. That’s my fault. The man I want, I just spent the night with him and threatened to shoot him for it. Maybe Harley McLeod isn’t the only one who needs therapy.

I put the gun back into the nightstand drawer. The safety was on. There was no way I would have shot Coty. He’s an idiot for wanting to talk to me with a gun pointed at him. Eventually, he’ll hate me, too, so it won’t matter. But what do I do now? Sitting here wrapped in my comforter and crying won’t solve anything.

The picture of Kira and me on my dresser mirror catches my eye. Kira. I can’t get anything right in my life. However, I can be there to support my friend. I don’t have to approve of her decision to support her. I jump from the bed and quickly shove some clothes into my travel bag. After a quick shower to wash away my latest mistake, I’ll drive to Knoxville a day early.

I pause in the bathroom and stare at myself in the mirror. Last night shouldn’t have happened. Still, it feels wrong to call it a mistake. For now, I need to put some actual distance between Coty and me. If I hurry, I’ll be able to get out of Willow Creek without him knowing.

Chapter 18

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Coty

Well, that didn’t go well. What was I expecting, though? For her to wake up happy and realize we belong together? Yeah, in the back of my mind, that’s what I hoped would happen. Was I a jerk last night? Did I cross a line? Yep, both are true.

Kayla woke up more than once last night, a little handsy. She had way too much to drink. I should have gone to the couch after she’d fallen asleep the first time. The disaster now is my fault. I’ll take full responsibility for whatever the fallout may be.

All the training I’ve had on how to handle an angel didn’t help me last night. It all went right out the window. Soft, gentle, and kind disappeared. Well, not completely. I remember every moment. She doesn’t remember any of it.

The first few times, I told her no and was able to coax her back to sleep. Then she got me in that half-awake, half-asleep state where I thought I was dreaming. I tried to coax her back to sleep when I realized it was real. She insisted she wasn’t drunk anymore and repeatedly asked me to make love to her. Hormones and emotions won, and I made love to her. Only, she doesn’t remember it. It’s still my fault. I was the sober one.

The drive to the clubhouse was on autopilot. It’s natural for this to be the first place my mind takes me. The gate doesn’t open when I pull up. It’s rare for me to have to speak to whoever is in the guardhouse.

Ross steps out and walks up to my window. He’s watching the road behind me. “What’d you do?”

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