Arrogant Bastard(32)

“What the hell are you doing down there?” I hop off the steps and reach for her hand, pulling her up. She’s dressed like a five-dollar hooker. Well, not quite. She actually looks hot as fuck. Two-dollar whore is what Josiah Mackey would call any woman who wore anything that showed any bit of skin. Juliette was the exception. She couldn’t hide her curves behind even her most conservative Sunday best, and Josiah liked that.

“I’m locked out.” She stands, smoothing the creases of her tight, dark dress. A small fur something-or-other hugs her shoulders. Other than that she’s got a whole lot of skin showing for a cool spring night like this.

“How were you planning to get back in?”

“I saw your truck was gone. I figured you’d be back soon.”

“And if I didn’t come back?” She’s shivering, though she tries to fight it. I grab her arm and lead her to the door, slipping my key in slowly and quietly praying the lock doesn’t clack enough to wake up the Big Man. I’m shocked he doesn’t have a security system installed.

“Guess I’d have frozen to death.” She laughs as if it’s funny—like she doesn’t care. Her eyes dart down to my jacket. “Your liquor’s showing.”

I feel like I’m talking to a complete stranger, and while I’ve only known Bellamy a few days, I’m starting to realize she is absolutely nothing like she seems. I know she commutes to a job in Salt Lake City. I know she walks a straight line when Mark’s around and keeps her mouth shut. That’s it. She’s pretty quiet most days, and it looks like she has damn good reason to be.

She pushes past me the second we get inside, removes her heels, and tiptoes up the steps. Her strategic maneuvers indicate she’s done this before. She seems to avoid the creakiest boards. I take note and follow suit.

Bellamy turns the corner at the top of the stairs and disappears into blackness. The gentle, slow click of her door tells me she made it safe and sound with the rest of her family none the wiser.

I crack a smile. The ones you least suspect should always be the ones you suspect the most…

Padding down the hall, I stop short outside Waverly’s door. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t care. I should hate her guts. I take deep breath and a few more steps until I find the handle to my door. The second I step inside I shove my vodka in my top dresser drawer, rip my jacket and sweater off and slip out of my pants, tripping over random shit in the dark until I find my bed.

A small amount of moonlight peeks in through the break in the curtains on the far wall, illuminating the outline of a person lying in the middle of my bed. I squint, waiting for my eyes to adjust, and then I realize…

Fucking Waverly is sleeping in my bed.





CHAPTER 12





“When I said ‘whatever helps you sleep,’ this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

My eyes open the second I hear his voice. How long had I been out? I wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth, thankful for the shade of night. It was not my intention to fall asleep in his bed. Thank God Dad’s at Kath’s tonight.

He’s standing before me in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxers. His shoulders are pulled back tight, and his hands are resting on his hips. I can’t quite make out his face, but I know the hard line of his lips means he’s not happy to see me.

I pull myself into a seated position, brushing my hair out of my face and mustering the strength to apologize.

I owe Jensen an apology.

I realized it the second he fled my room. My words were harsh, flung upon him without much thought and in the midst of a heated moment. I spoke out of fear, the same deep-seeded fear the guided my every life choice. Hearing about what he did scared the devil out of me and made me hate myself for what I did, and I took it out on him.

“I wanted to apologize,” I whisper. “What you did—”

“Try again.”

“What I heard—”

“Nope.”

“I shouldn’t have judged you.”

“There we go.” He still hasn’t moved. He stands there studying me, looking at me with equal parts contempt and pity, as if he feels sorry for me. “Much better.”

“But you knew what you were doing when you convinced me to—”

“God. Waverly. Give it a fucking rest. You masturbated. You can say it.”

My cheeks flame deep red. If anyone wakes up and hears our conversation, I’ll die. “Keep it down.”

He leans closer to me. “You act like I fucking took your virginity. Had I known you were this uptight, I’d have left you the fuck alone. You’re a goddamned piece of work, you know that?”