"Beck," I said as I stepped out of the stall.
"No!" he yelled again, putting out his hand as if to stop me from reaching for him, which I'd actually been planning on doing. "It wasn't supposed to be like that!" he whispered in despair.
"Beck," the man beside me began, but Beck was beyond consolation.
"I have to go," he said quickly and then he was shoving past a couple of guys near the door. Shame and confusion tore through me.
He'd wanted it, damn it.
Hadn't he?
I went through everything in my head and wracked my brain for any sign I'd forced him in some way … or that I'd missed some kind of warning that he hadn't been into what had been happening between us. But there was nothing. He'd pleaded with me. He'd made the choice to allow the blond to help get him off. I could understand his embarrassment that others had been listening to us, but even that seemed inconsequential considering the entire situation. He'd come here to get fucked by a stranger. He'd pursued me.
"Hey," the blond said as he gave me a gentle tap. "You didn't do anything wrong."
I managed a nod. Whatever sexual energy there'd been between us was gone and even if it hadn't been, I was too blindsided to even consider acting on it. I leaned down to scoop Beck's forgotten jacket off the floor. I searched the pockets, but they were empty.
So he probably wouldn't be back for it. I could leave it with the bartender in case Beck returned on another night for it.
But I wouldn't.
Nor did I dwell on the jealously that went through me at the prospect of Beck coming back to this place in the future. Even if he did, I wouldn't know it because there was no way I could ever come back to this club. Not after what had happened in that shitty little bathroom stall.
I nodded at the gorgeous blond, but didn't speak to him as I left the bathroom. I doubted he cared because he seemed just as confused as me. And I had no doubt he'd be asking himself the same question that was now playing on a loop in my head.
What the hell just happened?