CHAPTER SEVEN
The storm picks up again. The night’s one drawn-out opus of splattering rain and howling wind. I barely manage to get a few hours of sleep before a noise wakes me.
I sit up straight, familiarizing myself with my surroundings, my ears straining to place the sounds.
I’m still at Kellan’s place. So, that part’s not a dream.
The sky is still dark and starless, with nothing but the moon lighting up the room. I’m surrounded by the sound of the wind, the swaying of branches, the soft spattering of rain.
Pure, complete nature.
It must be what woke me.
Having lived in NYC all my life, I’m used to noise: the constant rumble of traffic, the honking, the hollow thudding of the music in nearby bars and shops, the shouting of the drunk on a Saturday night. I’m so used to my life in the city and the fumes that the complete absence of noise unnerves me.
It’s supposed to be calming, and yet I find it peculiarly strange.
I feel as if I’ve been sucked into a black hole and spat out on another planet.
As if I’ve become the air itself, trapped somewhere between the earth and sky, and I don’t know which way I want to go.
Somewhere in the distance, I hear the agitated chirping of birds, celebrating that soon a new dawn will break. Slowly, I sink back into the pillows and pull the covers up to my chin.
As soon as I close my eyes, I hear it again.
It’s the same sound that woke me.
I cannot ignore it.
It sounds like…
I jump up, eyes wide open, my heart stopping, as I become aware of one fact.
It’s coming from the adjacent room.
That’s where Kellan’s sleeping.
It’s unmistakably moaning, interrupted by heavy breathing. And then soft voices.
Kellan has a woman in there.
I reach out for my phone on the table. The clock says it’s four a.m. I left Mandy and Kellan barely two hours ago. My heart sinks as I recall the last few hours.
During dinner, which consisted of medium rare steak and bread, Kellan was friendly, respectful, and formal. I expected more sexual advances, but to my surprise, none came. There were no double meanings. No lingering looks. No more mentions of Club 69. Not even an intimate encounter that would put my willpower to the test. No mention of his girlfriend either.
The entire dinner focused mostly on our trip to Montana, Kellan’s house—it’s been in his family for generations—and a very long and heated conversation on the New York Yankees, Mandy’s team, and Boston Red Sox, Kellan’s favorite baseball team. Even Mandy, with her intense character and her big mouth, kept any snarky remarks to herself, for which I was very grateful. Except for a few glances Kellan and I exchanged, nothing happened—which both relieved and frustrated the hell out of me. At around two a.m., tiredness crept over me, and I excused myself, leaving Mandy and Kellan alone in the living room.
Which, maybe I shouldn’t have, because now I have no idea what went down.
What is still going down.
I might have been so focused on avoiding him that the thought of him hitting on Mandy never occurred to me when it was a likely possibility. Their heated discussion could have easily turned into a heated situation with them ending up in his bed.
Upon our arrival, when Mandy hinted not so subtly that she’d go after him I didn’t take her seriously. How could I have been so wrong? A pang of pain, raw and sharp, hits me in the chest. I can’t help but feel betrayed.
I rise to my feet and tiptoe to the door, my heart beating in a frenzy. Fear chokes my throat as I head for Kellan’s room and linger in front of the door.
It’s cracked open. Caught in the throes of passion, they probably forgot to close it.
My heart lurches. I feel faint.
Every part of my brain tells me that Kellan can fuck whomever he wants.
But every fiber of my being screams that Mandy knows I’m into him. That even though I told her she could fuck him, I didn’t mean it.
Maybe she wants him for herself.
I have to know what’s happening in there, if only to know where I’m standing.
I close my eyes, sickness washing over me as I picture the worst-case scenario.
I promise myself not to be angry at Mandy, but I know that’s not a promise I can keep.
By fucking him, she’s betraying every friendship code.
Should I make my presence known? Should I confront them? I have no plan. I just need to know.
Opening my eyes, I take a deep breath to prepare myself for what I’m about to see. As I crack the door a little bit wider so I can scan the room through the gap, nothing could have prepared me for what I see.
The truth hits me like thunder.
The bed is on the east side, facing the wall to my room. Kellan’s alone, naked on the bed, his eyes shut. He’s propped up against the pillows; the sheets are gathered around his ankles. A radio station is running in the background, voices chatting, but the volume’s too low to make out the words.