Free Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) by J. L. White Page B

key card—red light, red light, green—and swing the door open. When I shut it behind me, I collapse against it and slide all the way down to the floor.
    Grayson is here. He’s here at Isabella’s wedding with Sam and I think I’m going to just have to stay here in my room forever or else catch a plane to Bermuda or something. What in the hell just happened?
    I sit there stunned, my heart pounding soundly in my ears, when there’s a sharp rap at the door.
    I jump and let out an audible gasp.
    I freeze, my heart falling down on the job again as it stops beating.
    What if it’s Grayson? What if it’s Sam?
    I sit there frozen another few seconds. There’s another knock, this time followed by Ashley’s voice, “Chloe? You okay?”
    I scramble to my feet and open the door enough to peek out and verify it’s really her and that she’s alone.
    “What’s going on?” she asks.
    I open the door all the way and gesture her in. She comes in, giving me a questioning look, and I close the door behind her. Still hanging on to the door knob, I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steel myself.
    “Chloe—” she begins.
    “It’s him,” I say, grasping my hands together and holding them to my chest. “He’s the guy.”
    “Who? What guy?”
    “Grayson,” I say. I don’t know that I’ve ever said his name aloud. Not since I was with him. “Sam’s guy.”
    “Yeah, who is that guy?” Ashley asks. “He looks so familiar. Did he go to Hartman with us?”
    I shake my head impatiently. “We met him and another guy at the Perched Owl, remember? On the night of my—”
    “—Not Wedding!” she says, her eyes lighting up as the mystery is solved. “That’s right!” Her expression falls again, trying to figure out what that has to do with my distraught state.
    “He’s the guy, ” I say.
    A look of dawning falls over Ashley’s face, followed by a look of horror. “Oh my god.”
    I put my hands over my face. “What am I going to do?”
    “He’s the guy?”
    I nod, my hands still over my face.
    “The guy you slept with?”
    I groan. “What am I going to do?” I say again.
    “Okay,” Ashley says firmly. I slowly lower my hands to look at her. “Okay,” she says again, “let’s just... think for a minute.”
    She leads me over to the bed and we sit down.
    We both take a deep breath.
    “So...” Ashley begins, then stops.
    I nod. What in the hell can either one of us say?
    “Um...” she says, then nothing.
    “Ashley,” I say desperately, “What do I do? Do I tell her?”
    “Ugh. I don’t know. Let’s... just... back up a second.” She takes another deep breath. “Are you... interested in him or anything?”
    Interested? What difference does it make? I fucking ran out on him, and I did not miss the anger in his eyes when he saw me. And who can blame him? To top it off, he’s clearly gotten over it since he’s here as Sam’s fucking date. “Things ended really badly between us,” I answer. “Plus, it was, you know, just one night.”
    “Okay,” she says, “then it’s not like you want to be with him or something.” I swallow hard. “So, this situation obviously isn’t... ideal . But, like you said, it was just a one-night stand so it’s not like he’s your ex or something.”
    I blink at her and nod stupidly. That’s what it would be for a normal person anyway, right? Just a one-night stand and nothing more. In my weakened state, I’m not terribly inclined to admit I’m the kind of girl who falls for a guy after one night.
    “And...” she seems to be casting around, trying to catch her thoughts, “Sam didn’t know so she didn’t do anything wrong.”
    “God no,” I say. “This isn’t Sam’s fault.”
    It’s mine, mine, mine.
    “And...” Ashley continues, “it’s not like we need to worry about her getting all serious about him because she doesn’t get serious about anybody. He’ll probably be in an out of here as fast as all of her other guys.