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Lucy
Stepping into the shower,I let the events of the last few hours wash over me. It’s definitely been the strangest day of my entire life and nothing like I had originally planned. Obviously. I don’t know many women who imagine their boyfriend sleeping with his stepsister or follow up that betrayal by fucking his dad.
Not that I regret it one bit. Weston is... he’s everything I ever fantasized he would be. I can still feel the scruff of his five-o clock shadow on the inside of my thighs, his lips pressed to my clit.
Tilting back my hair, I rinse, letting the soapy suds wash down my body and out the drain. Grabbing a bar of soap, I lather it in my hands and run them across my flesh, taking special care to cleanse between my legs. I’m swollen and tender, but in the best possible way.
When I step from the shower, the bath house is still empty, but on the counter is a pile of fresh clothes. Smiling, I dry off and slip into the loose shorts and tee. The sun has almost fully set, a few pinks and purples spreading along the horizon.
Stepping toward the blazing fire, I meet Weston’s stare and a blush coats my cheeks.
“Finally, a woman. Please tell me you know how to cook. I don’t know if I can take another burnt hotdog,” Carson says as I join them.
I chuckle. “You could always eat it raw.”
He mimics holding his chest while another friend of Weston’s laughs. “Baby, you wound me.”
I’ve just sat down when Malcom and Elisa come walking up. The urge to jump up and confront him right here is almost more than I can fight. I glance at Weston, who seems to be waiting to see how I’ll handle it, when Malcom reaches my side. He leans in, trying to plant a kiss on my lips, but I jerk back and narrow my eyes. The words are on the tip of my tongue, begging for release.
“Babe?”
“Don’t call me babe. Actually, don’t speak to me at all,” I say, standing and walking toward the tent. He follows me, trying to grab my hand. Crossing them over my chest, I turn and glare at him. “You have a lot of nerve, walking back up here like you didn’t abandon me for hours.”
“I lost track of time and we got turned around. I’m sorry.”
As lies go, that one isn’t even well thought out. It shows exactly how much I matter to him. A part of me wonders how long this thing has been going on between them and how I could be so stupid and blind.
“I don’t care what lame ass excuse you have. The fact is that you ran off without even asking whether I wanted to come. You left me here for hours alone.” I don’t have to pretend the anger I feel toward him, even if I’m choosing not to disclose the real reason behind it. Fake it until you make it, right?
“You weren’t alone. My dad is here. I knew you were fine.”
I chuckle dryly. He has no idea just how fine I was with his dad.
“That’s not the fucking point,” I grind out.
“What do you want me to say?”
“What were you doing? Where did you go?” This is it, the last chance he has to tell me the truth. At this point, I would accept any version of it, just not outright lies.
“I told you, I wanted to show Elisa this cool rock formation I found the last time I was here. She’s into that stuff.”
“Right. And I’m not? You didn’t think I’d want to see it?”
“Babe, come on. I can take you tomorrow if you really wanna see it.” Running a hand through his hair, he turns pleading eyes on me. Before today, it might have worked. But that was before.
“I’ll pass. I already made plans.”
He doesn’t try to stop me as I storm past him. When I reach my seat again, Weston just raises his brows in question. I shake my head no. No, I didn’t confront him on the cheating. I’ll keep my mouth shut for now, if for no other reason than I kind of like this little game. And when it’s over, we’ll see how he feels with betrayal shoved down his throat.
I hope he fucking chokes on it.
Malcom doesn’t approach me again. And it’s a good thing. I don’t think I could swallow the words I really want to say again if he kept trying to justify his actions. After a few minutes, my racing heart slows to a more normal pace. Conversation around me carries on normally, which seems so strange.
“Here, asshole. Cook your own food if you’re so worried about it burning.”
“What do you expect me to do with this, Ash? Stab my prey?” Carson asks, holding up a skewer.
“No, dumbass. You stick the hot dog on it and hold it over the flame.”
