Another wave hits me, this one hot with humiliation. I’m emotionally invested. Completely.
So stupid. Especially since Gray has flat-out told me that sex is just sex to him. I know he cares about me. But that what we’re doing doesn’t matter to him in the same way it does to me makes my insides roll.
He doesn’t notice I’ve gone still. Almost roughly, he palms my ass as he kisses a path along my jaw. “Mmm… So good. Why did we wait so long to do this?”
Yes, why? When we could have been friends with benefits all along, have a quick fuck whenever the mood struck us?
I can’t breathe. I need to breathe. His big body pressed against mine is no longer a comfort but a weight I can’t bear. My stomach lurches. “I think I’m going to throw up.”
It’s enough to make him pause and lift his head in shock.
Wrenching free, I scramble from the bed and sprint to the bathroom just as Gray calls out to me.
Ignoring him, I slam the door behind me and lock myself in the safety of the bathroom a second before Gray catches up to me. A thud vibrates the door as if he’s bumped into it, and I hear his muffled curse.
“Ivy.” His voice is urgent. Worried. “Ivy, what—”
“I’m okay,” I practically shout. I’m not. Nausea has me panting and my face is too hot. I lean against the door, pressing my cheek to the cool wood. I want to sink down and curl up into a ball.
God, I’m so stupid. So weak, letting sex cloud my judgment. I can’t do casual. My heart is already invested.
Gray’s voice is so close I know he’s leaning against the door too. “Talk to me, Mac. Please. You’re kind of freaking me out here.”
My eyes close. What do I say? I don’t even know what to think right now. Only that his words are spinning in my head. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t have to matter. The slickness between my legs and the residual tenderness from my orgasm has me shuddering and pressing my thighs together as if I can blot out what he’d done to me and how perfect it had felt.
Gray speaks again. “Ivy, honey, I know that was unexpected.” He gives a wry laugh. “And not exactly within the bounds of friendship, but—”
“Stop,” I blurt out, panic and regret surging once more. “Just please stop talking.”
I can’t stand hearing him say those words again, that the best feeling of my life didn’t matter to him the way it mattered to me. I’ll scream.
“All right,” he says slowly. Another scratch against the door has me wondering if he’s put his hand to it. “But can you come out? I need to see that you’re okay.”
I hate the worry in his voice. Because it means he knows I’m way more affected by this than he is. It grates. And there is no fucking way I’m facing him right now.
“Look,” I say to the door. “I just need a moment to myself. Could you…” I lick my dry lips. “Could you just go home?”
Silence is heavy. When Gray finally answers, he sounds pained. “Ivy… Don’t send me away. I’m sorry that I—”
“No!” My shout echoes in the bathroom. “No more, Gray. I can’t talk about this now. I can’t.” Tears prickle behind my eyes. I’m so humiliated. I just want the door to swallow me up. “Not right now. Okay? Just. Go.”
He’s silent, but I can feel his resistance like a heavy hand against my skin.
“Go,” I insist again. “We’ll talk tomorrow, I swear. I just need to be alone right now.” My voice warbles with the plea.
And I almost cry in relief when he sighs, and his low voice grinds out, “Okay, Mac. I’ll go. Just… Call me soon. I… Shit, I don’t like leaving you this way.” When I don’t answer, he sighs again. “All right.”
And then there is silence. I press my heels against my hot eyes and realize how very much I’ve grown to hate silence.
Seventeen
Gray
IvyMac: Meet me at 1? At Java Cup?
GrayG: Will do.