"Goddammit! Get off me!" You wouldn't know a fucking thing about what he'd want. You didn't even really know him.
She sat up straight, but didn't move away. "Well, isn't that a real nice thanks I get for coming all the way out here to Bumfuck Egypt, bringing you what you obviously needed at just the moment you needed it, and even," she trailed a nail down my naked chest, "intending on showing you the fun you've obviously been missing. I even brought some toys. You missed me, didn't you, baby? Come on, we had a good thing, and we only barely got started." She leaned in and sucked on my earlobe.
I again thought about pushing her off, but the intense relief of finally getting a fix—of the agony in my muscles releasing—was so wonderful, I suddenly couldn't even bring myself to be overly annoyed by her unwanted attention. "Didn't you?" she purred. "I know I missed you." She reached her hand down and squeezed my dick. "I missed this."
"Enough," I slurred, pushing her hands away. "Get off me."
She sighed loudly but removed her body from mine. "Fine. I get it. You need to freshen up. Let's go to bed and in the morning, you'll feel better."
"Who brought you here?" I asked, my eyes still closed.
"Kelly. She was here for one of Brandon's parties and kept the directions. She'll be back to pick me up in a few days." Jesus, presumptuous much?
"How'd you know I was here?"
"Brandon told someone who told someone . . . you know how it goes." No, that didn't sound like Brandon. More likely she used some more devious method to find out. What Taylor wanted, Taylor got. Conniving bitch.
I sighed. "You need to call Kelly and tell her to turn around."
"Excuse me?"
"Call Kell—"
"I'm going to make myself a drink," she said. "You want something?"
"No. And there's no alcohol here."
"Not to worry," she sing-songed, her voice fading as she moved toward the kitchen. "I brought my own."
Jesus, what a clueless idiot she was. And so was I. I'd slurped down her pills without a second's thought. And now the past day and a half was all for nothing. Nothing.
I gripped my hair, self-hatred assaulting me. I sat up slightly and turned my head toward the window.
Lily was standing just a couple feet from the deck staring upward.
I bolted to my feet, clutching my scalp and yelling an obscenity as the blood rushed straight to my brain, causing the throbbing in my head to sharpen. I picked up my towel, covered myself, and ran to the door, calling Lily's name as I threw it open. She'd turned and started to head back toward the woods, but when she heard me calling her name, she halted, but then picked up her pace again, now running.
The look on her face . . . pure devastation.
Oh God. Oh God. She'd seen Taylor sitting on my lap fondling me, seen my hands on her hips, but not pushing her away. "Lily," I called again, clutching the towel around my waist. I wanted to shout out a stream of expletives. "Lily, please," I begged.
When she reached the shadows at the edge of the woods, she finally slowed and turned toward me. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I was just worried about you. I just . . . wanted to make sure you got home okay. That you saw . . ." She bit her lip. "I just wanted to check on you. It was . . ." She shook her head as if she didn't know how to continue. I wanted to grab her and haul her body into mine. I wanted to tell her how to me she was an oasis in the middle of the desert I'd been crawling through for the last day and a half.
"What are you doing out there?" Taylor yelled from the deck.
"Jesus Christ! Go inside, Taylor. Now," I yelled over my shoulder. Taylor crossed her arms and even from the distance, I could see she was glaring daggers at me.
"God, Brandon said you were acting nuts!" Taylor shouted and stomped inside. "But you're really just a fucking dick!"
When I turned back to Lily, she had moved more deeply into the woods. "Wait," I called, running after her, holding the towel around myself, my body only barely strong enough to run at all. Lily started moving more swiftly.
"Lily, Lily, please, just listen to me," I called after her. "Wait, please, Lily. I want . . . I want . . ." She whirled around, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wells of hurt.
"What?" she demanded. "What do you want, Holden? What do you want with me? It certainly doesn't look like you're lonely."
I shook my head. "Please, what you saw back there is not what you think it was. Taylor is not my girlfriend. Or at least . . . I didn't consider her my girlfriend. She . . . the point is, I haven't thought about or seen her in months. Please, it's not what you think," I repeated.