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A second later, his back arches, and he releases onto my leg. His fingers glide over my skin through his cum, smearing it up my leg and over my public hair, his expression one of pure disgust, although I can’t decide if it’s with me or himself. Using his index finger, he draws a heart under my navel. Holy fuck. What the hell is that about? His head really is fucked up.
My heart pounds painfully as the realization of my failure sinks in. He runs his hand under the water to wash away the remnants of our moment and steps out of the shower without a word. I sink to the bottom of the tub, confused, unsatisfied, and empty. I’m nothing more than a hooker and an idiot. Did I honestly think I could seduce him into wanting me for a girlfriend? How narcissistic of me, like I would be the best he ever had and he would be mine forever—a white picket fence and a fucking mini-van. I have nothing to offer this guy, absolutely nothing. I’m trash, and he’s gotten exactly what he wanted from me since the moment we met.
Covered with a towel, I exit the bathroom and find my clothes. Ryan is on the bed, dressed, with his elbows resting on his knees. His head is low, and he doesn’t turn to look at me. I don’t understand what went wrong. Last night, he wanted me and when I finally give in, he treats me like he’s repulsed by me.
I get dressed and stare at him, waiting for him to say something.
“I should have used a condom.”
Is that why he’s so upset? “I’m on the pill.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Oh. Of course. I’m a hooker,” I say with contempt, knowing his concern is with his health, but furious all the same. “I’m clean.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
Without another word, he grabs his keys off the dresser and walks out of the bedroom. Feeling tiny, I follow him to the front door. He holds it open, and I walk through. My lip quivers as we ride the elevator to the parking garage, but I refuse to cry. I’m angry at myself, and I don’t want the tears to come and let him know he hurt me.
We exit the freeway on Garnet Avenue, and although I’m confused, I don’t ask where we are going. After a few turns, he pulls into the parking lot for the Catamaran Hotel, and I finally ask, “What are we doing here?”
“Come in for a moment with me. I need to see someone.” His disinterested and flat tone hurts more than it should. After all, he’s just a customer. He paid for our time together. I know the routine, but at least at the club, I can escape when time is up.
I want to tell him to take me home, but my emotions are so jumbled. If I speak, I’ll only end up in tears. We get out of the car and enter the lobby of the hotel. My eyes find the source of the water invading my ears, an expansive stone waterfall, covered in tropical foliage. Hundreds of Birds of Paradise peek out among the plants, adding orange and yellow to the stark green canvas.
Ryan ignores me and talks to the desk clerk. He then takes off down a hall. I follow him to a door, and he knocks. The door opens, and a beautiful girl with long, shiny dark hair opens the door. She’s dressed in bright pink sweats that have the word pink printed down the right thigh. Her lipstick matches her pants. It’s a cheerful color that clashes with the irate look on her face. Ryan walks through, and I stupidly follow him.
“What are you doing here, Tug?” the girl asks, sounding as furious as I expected.
I suddenly can’t breathe and clutch my throat with my hands. Tug. Tug is Brady’s little brother. He used to talk about him all the time. Why did he lie about who he is?
“Not now, sis.” Tug holds up his hand. “Where’s Tori? I need to see her.”
The girl moves in front of him, blocking his way. “I don’t think this is a good time.”
He puts his hand on her arm and gently sh
oves her out of the way. “Liv, don’t try to stop me. I have to see her. She needs to know the truth.”
Liv is Brady’s sister. He used to talk about her, too. What in the hell is going on?
“I don’t know what you’re up to, but today is Brady and Tori’s day. Don’t pull any shit!” Liv yells.
My gaze travels around the room. A wedding dress hangs on a hook on the wall. Oh, my God! This is Brady’s wedding. Ryan/Tug shut down last night after I spoke about Brady. I try to remember what I said. Is he pissed about Brady? I stand there, stupidly still, saying nothing to stop him from crashing his brother’s wedding.
A blonde comes through a door in a white silky robe. She’s gorgeous with the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Her pale hair is pulled up with strings of pearls wrapping around her bun. “Tug, what are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
The desperation in his voice makes me sad, but the expression on his face crushes me. He loves this girl his brother is about to marry.
“Okay. What is it?” she asks him. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Do you remember when Brady disappeared on you the first time?”
She nods.
