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But I finished the sentence for him, anyway, whispering, “…conceived Ava Grace, yeah.”
“Oh God,” he moaned, bowing his face. I watched his shoulders heave as he tried to settle that fact in his mind, only to say, “Holy shit. This just got too real for me.”
“Vaughn,” I started. But I didn’t know what else to say.
He dropped his hands and looked up at me, his eyes begging. “So, as of midnight last night, it’s been the one-year anniversary of you and him…?”
He didn’t finish the question. But he didn’t have to.
Hugging my waist guiltily, I cringed and whispered, “Yes.”
A half sob, half moan left his throat. “But you… You and I didn’t make it home from the party until after midnight.”
Which meant he shared the very same sex date with me as his brother did.
“I…” I still had no idea how to respond, so I just shook my head and whispered, “I’m sorry. I… I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
All color drained from his face. He stared at me, looking lost and horrified.
When enough reasonable time passed for him to make a response and he’d yet to say anything, I reached out and touched his shoulder. “Vaughn?”
He jumped as if I’d just shot him and lurched back to his feet.
Pulling my hands to my chest, I took a good step in reverse, giving him space. Lots of space. Then I asked, “Are you okay?”
33
VAUGHN
Was I okay?
There was no fucking way in hell I was okay.
Last night had been…
It’d been the best experience of my life. Sharing my body with Lucy had rocked my world. I still wanted her. Now and always.
Except…
“Jesus,” I rasped, just standing there and hating myself for even thinking this way, yet unable to stop the rush of territorial, devastating emotions anyway.
He’d been where I’d been and done exactly what I’d done, on the very same day.
Hot jealousy poured through me.
And I wasn’t sure what to say to her because I was wigging out when I knew I shouldn’t. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings or do anything to make her think she’d done anything wrong or that I regretted what we’d shared, even though I really, really wished we hadn’t done it on the very same fucking anniversary that she’d been with Duke.
Lucy had to be the one thing I never would’ve wanted to share with him. And yet, I knew I had no right to feel this proprietary sensation over her. Because, one, she wasn’t a fucking possession, and two, even if we could claim dibs, he’d clearly come first and would’ve won that caveman competition, anyway.
Dammit, I was going to fuck this up so bad. I just knew it.
Hands fumbling, I took the clothes that she’d set on the bed next to me at some point, and I rushed to pull on the boxers and then the jeans.
“I-I… Vaughn?” Lucy’s sweet, concerned voice made me gnash my teeth. She sounded so worried, so guilty. It made me feel shittier. She’d done nothing wrong; we’d both made the very conscious decision to be together. She hadn’t tricked or seduced or manipulated me. It’d been a mutual, adult, consensual act that we’d both wanted. And enjoyed.
“What do you need me to do?” she asked, her voice trembling.
I rasped out a sound of pain and shook my head. Torment sluiced through me. But why the hell did she have to sound so damned concerned and worried? She should be pissed at how shoddily I was holding it together. She should hate me for having any kind of pause over this at all.
