smacked his head like he always did when he gets out of bed in a hurry.
“What the fuck?” I heard him ask. “What are you doing in here?”
My heart was beating so heavily and I felt the warm gush of adrenaline flood through my face.
Have you ever had that feeling that the next sixty seconds of my life are going to be a defining moment that you will probably not recover from? Yeah, that’s what was rushing through my mind at the moment. My heart and my head knew what I was about to see. My eyes and my limbs didn’t want to function, didn’t want to walk up and push the door open to see what I knew I was going to see but there was no avoiding it. Damn you, Easton, for causing this sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach and for causing this irreparable tear in my heart. Just damn you. I went to where the voices were. My body was moving on its own and my heart was already weeping before I’d even confronted them.
I heard him scramble around back there as I was opening up the door. He was knocking shit over to get to the front of the motor coach where I was standing before I could walk in on him. I watched him shaking and wondering what the fuck happened last night. Amazingly, I was shaking and wondering what the fuck happened last night as well.
There’s something that stopped me when I looked up at him watching me, it’s the confusion on his face and the way he looked. Heartbroken. He looked at Shaylee and then Olivia, both naked and then back to me.
His face was pure white, stone silent. When I turned around, he snapped out of his trance wrapping a sheet around his waist to follow me. “Arie, wait!”
When I got to the door, he grabbed my hand. “I have no idea what happened. I was drinking with Brody in the pits and then I woke up to you standing there.” He shook his head, gasping, as if he was trying to remember. “I don’t know how they got in here. I left the door unlocked for you.”
I looked down and saw the box of condoms, a few empty wrappers, and wanted to puke.
Had I let this happen? Had I pushed him away? Was it me? Why do women always blame themselves for situations like this? It wasn’t me waking up to two naked men in my bed.
So many thoughts were going through my mind, trying to find a justification for this that I couldn’t even focus on what he was saying to me.
I see those girls. I know what they want. They want him. They want Easton. They want my life. They want my walk down the grid holding his hand and my million dollar home. They want my cars, my ring, my clothes, everything about my life.
They want my husband’s hands on them and his dick between their legs.
You know what I say to them now?
Fucking have it.
I didn’t give him a chance to explain. I wouldn’t. There should have been no reason why they were in there. No reason at all. And no explanation was going to right this situation.
“Where are you going?” I could hear the girls in the back, whispered words I wanted to shove down their throats. You can fucking have him, ladies. Enjoy!
“I’m leaving,” I said, shoving clothes in my bag.
“Please, no…” he looked at me right then, eyes panicked, his hands frantically pulling his jeans on and tossing the sheet on the couch.
“You expect me to stay? I can’t stay here and do this every time.”
“This has never happened before,” he defended, yanking a shirt over his head.
“It shouldn’t have happened even once, asshole!” I growled, so angry I couldn’t even see him through the tears forming. “ Ever . You know that.”
I went home. Only I didn’t go home. I went to my second home…the dirt track.
It hurts when you fall and even harder when there’s no one there to catch you.
I don’t know what’s leading me, but I left. If I was honest, I was looking for a reason and I found it. If I thought about it, there’s sounds in my head even I don’t understand. Thoughts I can’t make sense of and I was blaming it on my surroundings. I