“Not sure,” she said gently. “But this is serious. You need to get ahead of it.”
Fear and anger raged through me.Who did this?For a moment, Ken’s face came to mind. Was this his way of gettingback at me for leaving him at the hotel and ending our relationship?
I didn’t think so. Even if he was hurt, he wouldn’t harm Mia.
But if it wasn’t Ken, that meant someone else in town knew about Magic Marco. Yes, those videos were public, for a price, and meant for an audience, but I’d never expected to find my subscribers in this sleepy little conservative town.
That’s before I found out about Ken.
So much for what I knew.
Mia.The realization hit me hard. She was going to find out about these videos. The thought of her facing cruelty or embarrassment because of my decisions overwhelmed me.
In that instant, my past choices crashed down on me like an avalanche.
How could I ever make this right?
Chapter Thirteen
Ken
By late afternoon, it was clear Marc wasn’t coming back.
His presence lingered only in the fading scent of the coffee that he’d brought back to our room and the pair of cowboy boots he left behind.
I stared out the hotel window, retracing what had happened that morning. The room was hollow, empty, our laughter replaced by silence. Each glance at the rumpled sheets and strewn belongings deepened the ache in my chest.
Each minute of silence was like a dagger in my heart.
It was like a nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. Marc’s eyes—those beautiful eyes that had looked down on me with desire and hunger while we were in bed together—had flashed with hurt and anger. The way he had pulled away from me as if my touch burned him.
Why hadn’t I told him?
I knew why. I didn’t want to lose him. The moment I brought up Magic Marco, I’d lose Marc, that’s what I thought. I didn’t trust him, didn’t trust in our friendship enough to overcome that obstacle—so I left it there, pretending like I had done nothing wrong.
My selfishness had built this wall between us. And now he was gone.
We’re done. I don’t want to see you again.
As I sat there, lost in my thoughts, the weight of my actions bore down on me like a physical ache.
I had ruined the best thing that had ever happened to me.
***
Eventually I began gathering my things. No sense in staying here alone another night by myself. Marc had left some of his stuff too, in his speedy escape from my presence—a pair of cowboy boots and his toiletries.
Just looking at them made my stomach sick again.
The sudden buzz of my phone jarred me out of my thoughts, the vibration against the wooden nightstand cutting through the silence.
Please be Marc,I thought to myself, but my heart dropped when I saw Stella’s name on the screen.
Her text was light and cheerful, a simple check-in on my weekend with Marc, the man she playfully referred to as my “hot boyfriend.”
If only she knew what had happened.
My fingers hovered over the screen, debating whether to hide the truth. But lies had brought me to this breaking point. It was time to be honest, especially with my best friend.
