Page 82 of The Temptation of Truth
I’m married, but I just kissed someone else. My husband was so far from my mind that he practically didn’t exist. I didn’t consider him once. Not once.
I’m a horrible wife. I’m a terrible person.
I’m married, but I just kissed Mabel Rossi, and God help me, but I want to do it again. I have never, ever wanted to do anything more in my whole life. In this moment, I would burn my whole life to the ground to touch her one more time, and it’s terrifying.
I pull my hand from her grip and take several steps back, my heartbeat growing louder in my ears, my breath coming in pants. I’m going to cry. I’m going to pass out. I need to get out of here.
“I have to go.”
She steps toward me. “No, look, it’s okay. We should probably talk?—”
“No. No.” I shake my head frantically and widen the distance between us again. “I have to go. I have to think. Please. Just stay here and have fun. Find Kangaroo Jack and, you know, dance with him again or whatever. I’m fine. I’m fine. I just...I’ll...I’ll see you in the morning.”
Mabel’s smile is more of a wince as she nods. “Sure. I’ll see you in the morning.”
I turn and flee.
I’m ashamed and embarrassed. I’m going to start sobbing. I can feel it. I need to leave. I need to get the hell out of here. The lights are suddenly blinding, and the music is too loud, and the people are?—
I run smack into a tall, hard body. His large hands close gently on my shoulders. When I look up into the face of my security guard, I cringe. Jones. And he looks so damnawkward.
Shit.
“Tell me you haven’t been here the whole time.”
His wincing smile mirrors Mabel’s. “Sorry, Mrs. Sinclair. It’s my job.”
Mrs. Sinclair.God, it’s like a slap to the face. I swallow roughly, take a deep breath, and beg.
“Please, please don’t tell anyone. Not my uncle or Sav. No one. Please.”
He nods. “I promise.”
We ride back to the lodge in silence. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t even turn on the radio, and I’m so grateful for it. All I can do is stare out the window and replay every amazing, confusing, terrible moment with Mabel in that club. She waseverything, and I’m...I’m...
I’m so screwed.
What the hell am I going to do?
Jones says something about the others and transportation, but it doesn’t make it through the thick fog that’s once again descended in my head. I amble through the suite, take a quick, freezing shower to wash away the buzz, and climb into bed. I’m plugging my phone in when I notice three missed calls from Brady and a series of texts.
My heart races once more, guilt and fear stabbing at my skin. Does he know? Were we seen? Oh God, not yet. He can’t know yet. Not before I know what to do.
I hold my breath as I open and read the texts.
Brady
What the hell is this 30-dollar charge at a bar? What the fuck are you doing at a bar at 2 in the fucking morning?
Brady
Answer the fucking phone, Aurora.
Brady
Call me. Now.
I can hear Brady’s voice. Raised and angry. Past condescending. Past patronizing. Nothing but ire.
