Didn’t he say last night that he had to be up early?
My eyes snag on a small tattoo on his side over his ribs that I didn’t notice last night, and my heart stops beating for a moment.An anatomical heart with sunflowers blooming out of it…Why would Graham have that? And certainly not for the reason I think.
There’s no way.
I must be half asleep.
Jesus Christ, I can’t deal with this right now.
Shoving off the covers, I climb out of bed as quietly as I can and book it to the bathroom, locking myself inside. I take in my very naked reflection in the mirror and immediately wish I hadn’t. “Oh, good lord,” I grumble, reaching under the sink for my makeup wipes. I look like a freaking raccoon. Drunk Charleyneeds to get her shit together. Not only does she sleep with men she shouldn’t, but she also doesn’t wash her face before bed?
Jail.
Straight to jail.
I huff out a small chuckle as I lather my face with my cleanser, because waking up in jail probably would’ve been a better option than how I actually woke up.
Speaking of drunk Charley, my head pounds something fierce and my stomach isnothappy with me. I don’t know who I thought I was last night, tossing back tequila shot after tequila shot, like I’m not creeping up on forty in a couple of years. Breathing in deeply through my nose, I fix my hair, throwing it in a bun that looks less disastrous than the one I woke up with.
What now?I can’t stay locked in this bathroom all day.
Part of me says to wake him up, but a bigger part of me isn’t ready to face him yet. How childish. I’ve known this man almost my entire life; he’s seen me through some pretty embarrassing times, we have history, andthis—looking him in the eye after letting him fuck me on my dining room table not even eight hours ago—is too much?
Fuck, get it together, Charley. You’re a mature, strong woman. So what, you fucked Graham? Big deal. That’s no reason to hide. Go out there and face this. Face him.
But my gosh, I groan at even the thought of last night and what we did. At how forward I was. At how easily it was to slip back into things with him again. There’s a deep ache between my thighs, reminding me just howlargehe is, and my body heats, skin tingling, remembering how it felt. Howhefelt. Howgoodit felt to slip back into what we once were.
Yeah, no, I’m not facing him. I can’t. Not right now, at least. My chest squeezes, making it hard to breathe, even thinking about it.
It’s Saturday morning, which means there’s yoga on the beach. That’s perfect! I’ll get dressed— my shorts and sports bra are already in here—and sneak out of the house and go do that. Then I’m sure he’ll be gone when I get back. He did say he had a busy day after all, and I can’t see Graham sticking around, wanting to talk about our feelings and what this all means.
Perfect, that’s what I’ll do.
And who cares that it’s kind of pathetic that I’m sneaking out of my own house to avoid my problems? Yoga and fresh air will be good for this hangover anyway so, honestly, I’m doing my body a favor. Yeah, I may be a coward, but it’s yoga… The benefits surely outweigh that.
Twenty minutes later, I’m laying my mat on the sand, surrounded by a dozen other people as the class begins. The gentle lapping of the waves reaching shore and the seagulls flying above is such a comforting sound. I’ve been coming here every Saturday for a handful of years, and I love it. It’s relaxing, my body always feels great after and, normally, it’s the perfect way to clear my mind. Heavy emphasis onnormally.
Not today, though.
I don’t think any amount of relaxation and meditation could get rid of the thoughts spinning around in my head today. I cannot fucking believe I had sex with Graham last night. I mean, sure, we were both pretty drunk, but my goodness, I know better than that. This wasn’t making out with a random stranger outside the bar or showing my boobs to a room full of people for the hell of it. This was sex…with the absolute last person I should’ve been naked with. There is way too much history between us—some confusing, some crystal fucking clear—that it never should’ve happened. I swore to myself years ago I would never go there.
Starting with crystal clear and reason number one: Graham is my best friends’ brother. It is, like, top girl code to notfuck their brother—second only to not sleeping with their ex-boyfriend. It’s weird, it’s awkward, and if it were to go south, it would create a rift in the friendship. Georgia, Gemma, and Grace have been my lifeline since we were kids. They areeverythingto me. Their home was my safe haven when shit got bad between my parents. When the fighting would get too loud, or when the silence was deafening, I knew I could run down the street and find solace with my three best friends. It’s something I couldn’t risk losing back then, and it’s not something I can risk losing now.
Another obvious reason last night shouldn’t have happened is, Graham and I live two completely different lives. We both have our plates full. What we did last night was messy and careless. It was stupid. He’s a single dad to a toddler, grieving the loss of his wife—the woman he’s been with since he was seventeen—and even if she betrayed him, there’s no way it’s been easy on him. Then there’s me and all my shit—working full time at the inn, going to school full time. Starting a brand-new career at the ripe age of thirty-eight was never in my plan, but after my father had an almost life-ending heart attack a little over a year ago, I knew it was time for a change.
I don’t have time formessy, and I don’t have time for all the feelings that swim to the surface from doinganythingwith Graham. I laid all those feelings to rest years ago, and I have no business digging them up now. I loved Graham when I was a teenager—I wasin lovewith him—and there was a time when all I wanted was for us to end up together, despite all the reasons I knew we never could. Watching him fall in love with Megan devastated me. It took years to get over him, to get to where we are now—or at least, where we were before last night—because there’s never been a time he hasn’t been in my life. Living in a small town and being as close with his sisters as I am, it’simpossible not to, but I finally got to a place where it didn’t hurt to be near him.
We work together, see each other at birthday parties and holidays and barbecues, and while I don’t go out of my way to hang out with him, we are friendly—friends, even—and I feel nothing being around him, and I haven’t for over fifteen years.
Until last night.
And I only have myself to blame.
By the time class is over, I feel no less tense and frazzled than I did when I woke up, and as I walk back to my house, I know if Graham’s still there, it’ll be time to face the consequences of my drunk, stupid actions.But fuck, I hope he’s not.It’s only a five-minute walk from where the class is held on the beach to my townhouse. I left in such a hurry, I don’t even have my phone or anything other than my key to get inside. As I step into the house, my heart is clear in my throat, listening for any sign of Graham. Padding across the hardwood floor toward my bedroom, I let out a breath I’d been holding when I find my bed empty.
He already left.
Thank god.
