Perfect Regret (ARC)



Garrett had lowered his arm and was watching me. He didn’t look angry by my attitude. He didn’t appear to be hurt in any way by my obvious dismissal of him. This was both a relief and strangely disappointing.

He seemed only thoughtful. Curious even.

What the hell?

“Where are my pants?” I muttered under my breath. I got out of bed, trying not to die of total embarrassment as I flashed Garrett a pretty picture of my ass while I bent over to retrieve the rest of my discarded clothing. As I finished getting dressed, I grumbled, I cursed, and I otherwise fumed at my total idiocy.

And Garrett freaking Bellows didn’t say a damned thing. He just lay there, watching me, as though he found me supremely entertaining.

“Do you know where my keys are?” I asked him, hating that I had to talk to him at all. I would rather have left with my head hung in shame, never to reveal my night as Miss Skankalicious to anyone ever.

Garrett pointed across the room. “You dropped your bag when we came in here last night. I’m guessing you’ll find them in there,” he remarked dryly. He stood up and I was treated to another view of his body. And my body tingled in response.

My eyes fell onto the tattoo on his side and words floated through my brain.

Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.

Where the heck did that come from? My chest pitter-pattered painfully for some unknown reason.

Time to shut this crap down here and now.

“I just need to get out of here,” I said more to myself than to him but he heard me loud and clear.

“Why the rush?” Garrett asked, cocking his eyebrow. His blasé nonchalance prickled my already testy nerves and reminded me of why he annoyed the shit out of me. People that laid back drove me crazy.



“No sense in wasting anymore of your time. I think we’re done here,” I spat out, glaring at him. I knew I was being horrible but I was mortified by my behavior.

Riley Walker does not get so drunk she blacks out.

Riley Walker does not have sex with a guy she barely knows; particularly when said guy was one she could barely stand.

And apparently Riley Walker was now talking about herself in the third person. Hello insanity!

Garrett pulled on a pair of sweat pants and lifted my purse. I grit my teeth as he crooked his finger in my direction. “You want it, come over here and get it.” He was messing with me. Trying to make me more uncomfortable than I already was.

Well screw him!

Wait… I had already done that…Ugh!

I snatched it from him, making sure not to touch him as I did so. More flashes flooded my brain.

His lips. His hands. The way he said my name right before he kissed me.

What I wouldn’t give for another bought of alcohol-induced amnesia right about now.

Garrett’s eyes heated for a moment, as though he could read my mind. His gaze slid down the length of me and then came back up to meet my eyes where they cooled slowly. His mouth, entirely too pretty to be a guy’s, set into a firm line and for a second, I felt a flash of regret.

Not for our night together. But for the way I was treating him. He didn’t deserve to be shitted on because I was feeling like a fuck up. I opened my mouth to apologize, a Riley Walker first, when he beat me to the punch.

He walked passed me to the bedroom door and opened it wide. He gave me a cold smile. “Oh, we’re done here all right.” Garrett ran his fingers down the side of my neck and I couldn’t help but notice the way his face softened a bit before he went in for the kill.

“It was fun, but I won’t be signing up for round two. You can leave now.” His grin was as brittle as broken glass and I felt my face flush red in a mixture of humiliation and gnaw-through-his-jugular rage.



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