What did you do?
I move quietly into the bedroom and open the drawer of my nightstand. My new purchase from a few days ago is still sealed. I know for a fact I didn’t have any stray condoms lying around in there. Maybe we didn’t have sex?
Beth stretches her arms above her, and it’s then I notice the faint marks on her wrists, a light dusting of pink against her pale skin.
Fuck. Fuck! I tied her up. I wouldn’t tie her up unless I was fucking her.
All at once, the other imperfections on her skin begin to glow, drawing my attention all over her body. Bite marks on her breasts. Red blotches decorating the line of her neck.
Holy shit. I’m all over her.
“Hey.”
My eyes dart up her body, locking onto hers. I swallow, then struggle through a nervous “heyyyy, you.”
She looks down, eyes widening and a flush blooming across her face.
Shit. I’m hard.
I grab my boxers off the floor and quickly slip them on. “Uh . . . Beth, I need to ask you something.”
She gives me a sleepy smile. Her tongue wets her lips. “If you’re going to ask me if my ass is sore, the answer is yes, but in a very good way.”
Oh, sweet fuck.
“O-Okay, now I have several other questions on top of the one I need to ask.” I start to pace, then force myself to stand still when my heartbeat returns to my head and resumes beating against my skull. “Are you on birth control?” I ask, staring down at her, wincing through the pain.
Her eyebrows pull together. She’s confused by my question. “Yes. We went over that already. I told you I have an IUD. I’ve had it for years.” Her hands pull the covers up around her, and she shifts up higher on the bed so her back is against the headboard. A mild discomfort washes over her face as her one hand tames her hair.
I give her a curt nod, rubbing a hand along my jaw. “Right. So, last night, did I . . . I’m guessing I didn’t pull out.”
She stares long and hard at me, dragging out the silence. “Why are you asking me this? You were there. You know what all we did.” Her mouth falls open with a sharp intake of breath. Slowly, she sits up and pulls the sheet tighter around her, keeping her body hidden from me. “Reed, please tell me you remember last night. You weren’t drunk. You said you weren’t drunk.”
“I might’ve been a little drunk.”
I was really fucking drunk.
Beth drops her head. “Oh my God.” She keeps the sheet wrapped around her as she scrambles out of bed and searches the floor for her clothes. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you don’t remember. What we did . . . shit. I’m . . . God, this is so embarrassing. I’ve never done . . . oh my God, Reed!”
I move to the edge of the bed as she drops the sheet. She keeps her back to me, stepping into her panties, then her dress.
“I’m sorry! I obviously didn’t think I was drunk at the time. I normally don’t drink like that.” My steps to get closer to her are halted when she glares at me over her shoulder.
“Don’t apologize. I should’ve realized how wasted you were. This is on me.” She bends down and grabs her boots. “God, do you remember any of it?”
I don’t answer her until she peeks up at me. A shake of my head is all I give her, and I regret it immediately.
Her eyes fill with tears, her lip trembles.
God, I’m an asshole.
“Beth.”
“Please don’t,” she begs, brushing her hand over her cheek as she straightens. She looks so fragile right now, so different from the version of her I remember last night. The woman who held me together when I was slowly unraveling.
She faces away from me, reaching back to secure the hair off her neck.
A current runs through my veins as a burst of images flash in front of my eyes.
Beth on her knees. My hand fisting her hair. Her eyes, wild and willing, holding me over her shoulder.
Holy shit.
Her movement snaps me alert.
“Whoawhoawhoa, wait.” I reach for her to stop her from leaving, grabbing her wrist before she gets away.
She keeps her head turned toward the wall, but I can see the tears falling freely down her cheek.
I hate this. She shouldn’t be crying.
“Wait, I . . .” My next words get stuck in my throat as a wave of nausea rolls through me. My other hand flattens against my stomach. Oh, fuck. “Shit, I’m going to be sick.” I release her arm and dart for the bathroom, launching myself at the toilet. Bile rises in my throat as my knees hit the tile. I barely lean over before the contents of my stomach are ejected into the bowl. My head throbs. My throat burns.
“Beth! Don’t leave!” I yell, seconds before another bout hits me, then another. It’s never ending. Sweat pools at the base of my neck, soaking my hair. My forearms burn as I support my weight. I try and stand, but a roll of my stomach hunches me forward again.
Fuck! I need to talk to Beth.