Page 83 of Ten Day Affair
I should tell her. At this point, I don't have anything else to lose. She deserves to know I’m the reason this ishappening at all. That I bought the debt, that I set this vote in motion months ago.
I tell myself the same thing I’ve told myself since the start: if it hadn’t been me, it would’ve been someone else. Someone who wouldn’t have given a damn about her wing, her family's legacy, her.
But that doesn’t make this feel any less like betrayal.
Her fingers brush against my chest. “You still leaving Saturday?”
I nod once, although she isn't looking at my face. “Yes.”
She lifts her head, now putting her eyes on mine. “So that’s it?”
I don’t answer right away. I don’t know what she’s asking.
She exhales through her nose, the edge already creeping back into her voice. “You’re gonna fuck me one last time, then show up Friday and vote to gut my family's legacy?”
We stare at each other, nothing between us but heat and half-truths and too many things unsaid.
“I’m trying to fix it. It was already broken when I got here, Sam.”
Her brow lifts. “That supposed to make it better?”
She pulls away before I can stop her, gathering her clothes in silence.
"Sam," I plead. She doesn't even look at me.
And just like that, she’s gone.
NINETEEN
Sam
I pry my eyes open as sunshine filters through my half-drawn curtains. My body aches in the most delicious way, but there's no warm body beside me. No Cole.
Good. This is what I wanted. What we both wanted.
I roll over, wincing slightly at the tender spots along my inner thighs, little reminders of last night's intensity. The sheets smell like him somehow, a musky, intimate scent that immediately pulls me back to his hands on my skin, his weight pressing me into the mattress.
Fuck.
I left because I'm done pretending this is anything more than it is. He weakly tried to stop me. That's the arrangement we silently agreed to somewhere between angry words and desperate touches.
Just two people using each other.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand, jabbing at the power button. Nothing happens. Dead. Like my brain right now.
I drag myself to the bathroom, avoiding my reflection. I don't need to see what I already feel. Seeing the marks onmy skin, the tangled hair, and the emptiness in my eyes will only reinforce my despair.
The hot shower spray hits my shoulders, and I lean against the cool tile, letting water cascade down my back.
The sex was incredible. But the uncertainty is worse. What happens after tomorrow's vote?
My stomach twists. I scrub harder with my loofah, as if I could wash away these complicated feelings along with the evidence of our night together.
Clean, but not clear-headed, I wrap myself in a towel and pad back to the bedroom. My charging cable lies on the floor where I kicked it last night when I got home, too spent to bend down and pick it up.
I plug in my phone and wait impatiently for it to power up.
The screen finally illuminates, immediately buzzing with delayed notifications. Five missed calls from Kip. All within the last hour.
