Page 158 of The Illicit Play
But the door was unlocked.
“Wily?” I call quietly, kind of relieved when he doesn’t answer me.
Creeping up the stairs, I tiptoe to his bedroom door and press my ear against it.
A soft moan reaches me and I cringe, stepping back from the wood and not wanting to picture what must be going on in there right now.
“Yes, baby. That’s good. You feel so good.” Wily’s voice is only mildly muffled by the door, and I shudder.
Yeah, Ireallydon’t want to know what he and Satch are doing in there.
So I rush back to my room and close the door behind me.
The second it clicks, I’m swamped with that horrible sense of claustrophobia again. I can’t stay in this space. I can’t hide under the covers. I can’t be here when Grady finally gets back.
I don’t want to see that look of regret on his face as hetakes my hand and softly tells me that he’s so sorry, but his heart belongs to Teah. He thought he could get over her, but he can’t move on.
She needs him more than ever now, and there’s no space for me in his life anymore.
I get it.
I really do.
She’s easy. I’m complicated.
“I should go,” I whisper, gazing around the guest room before jumping into action and snatching my clothes off the floor. Bundling them into my bag, I work at a furious pace, gathering up my stuff.
Darting into the bathroom, I grab my toothbrush but leave my shampoo in the shower. I can restock when I get to where I’m going.
Where’s that?
How the hell should I know!
My insides swirl into chaos as I dart down the stairs, fishing Wily’s keys out of the bowl. I’ll get his truck back to him somehow. He’s not supposed to be driving it right now anyway. It’ll just be a few days. Once I’m settled, I’ll call and let him know, and we can work out logistics.
Stop acting like a crazy person!
I ignore common sense and rush to his truck, throwing my bags in the back. My laptop case topples and falls onto the floor, but I leave it, wanting to get out of here before someone sees me.
Revving the engine, I back out of the driveway and narrowly miss clipping a car parked on the road. Shit, this truck is huge!
Sucking in a breath that’s too shallow, I steel myself and press down on the accelerator.
I have no idea where I’m going.
It can’t be Denver—my parents don’t want to see me right now.
It can’t be Chicago.
Maybe LA? I do love the beaches.
Or maybe New York.
I shake my head, barely conscious of my direction as I weave out of Nolan.
That’s all I know for sure.
I have to get out of Nolan.
