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“One-night stands?”
I nod. It’s not in my nature to fall in bed with just anyone. Especially not men I have such a history with.
“I know you told me the whole thing. How Noah screwed you over when he left, and how horrible Brett was...but what did he actually do that was so bad?"
I glare at her.
"I'm hungover and stressed out, okay? Humor me."
I sigh. “It’s not just one thing. I mean, no one ever does just one terrible thing that makes them irredeemable. Most times, it’s all about the little things, you know?”
Stacey shakes her head. She doesn’t know. And maybe I’m the only one that sees things this way.
“He was such a dick to me while Noah and I were together. He made no secret of it that we weren’t supposed to be together, that he didn’t like me, that he didn’t like it when I was around. He was always mean to me. The fact that Noah ended up going to Miami with him rather than coming to UCLA with me…that was just the final straw. I mean…I blame him for it, but I know that Noah’s the one who ultimately made that choice. Not that Brett didn’t jump for joy when Noah decided to leave me behind.”
Stacey chews, listening. When I’m done, she swallows.
“Maybe starting over is exactly what will make this all work,” she says. “And what a way to break the ice.”
I groan. “I gave away my leverage.” I tip my head back and close my eyes, trying to think around the throbbing headache that’s settled firmly between my temples. “I don’t have any foot to stand on now.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. Erase the past and focus on the future. Isn’t that usually your advice?”
I offer a grin but I’m sour about it because she’s right. That’s usually what I say.
“It’s easier to give advice than to take it.”
Stacey laughs. “It really is.” Her face sobers. “Look, I get that the two of you have history. And I’m all for you having a good time. I wanted you to hook up and have fun. But don’t let this get in the way of the wedding and the planning and everything, okay?”
I shake my head. “You know I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“You kind of already did,” Stacey points out with a smirk.
I don’t fall for her quip.
“It’s going to be the best day, and everything’s going to be perfect. I promise.”
Stacey nods. “That’s good. I have to get back upstairs and give my fiancé some attention after he took care of my drunken ass. Marc is the best guy to after walk this earth.”
She’s right; Marc is really great.
I’m going back upstairs, too. I don’t know if I have what it takes to face Brett, but I’m going to have to do it at some point. I can’t just pretend the whole thing didn’t happen, and since we’re supposed to make sure everything works right—together—I can’t avoid him. That’s what I would love to do most.
But there’s no space for me to be passive-aggressive.
The best thing would be to go talk to him right now and clear it out of the way. The sooner, the better. Then I can get on with my life without worrying about the whole thing, without overthinking it, going over what happened in my mind again and again. I tend to do that, and I’m going to nip it in the bud before it becomes a spiral.
I ride the elevator up to my floor. I flash on the time we spent together last night. Our bodies, naked, pressed up against each other. His breath in my ear. His cock deep inside of me.
My stomach clenches and an echo of the pleasure from last night runs through my body, but I push it away.
Whatever it was, it’s not happening again. I’m going to make it clear to him right now.
I walk to his door—I think it’s his door—and lift my hand to knock. But I freeze. I have no idea what I’m going to say. I have no idea how I’m going to look into those dark eyes and formulate any sentences that will mean something.
What if he thinks I’m an idiot? What if he doesn’t even remember any of it? Although, that part I doubt…but what if this was just a one-off thing to him, and he doesn’t even care?
I don’t know what will be worse—if last night meant everything to him, or nothing at all.
Instead of knocking, I lower my hand and shake my head. I’ll let him sleep, I tell myself. I’m not running from conflict. I’m just being polite. I’ll talk to him later.
I walk to my room, close my door, lock it. I unlock it again. This is ridiculous. I walk to my suitcase that I didn’t unpack yet and start filling up the closet. This is what I need to do right now, I tell myself. I pretend like I’m not trying to hide from Brett and what happened between us last night.
