The apartment is quiet as I move through the living room and kitchen. Thank God Owen’s not up yet. I’d much prefer to do this walk of shame in private. In fact, I don’t know how I’ll ever meet my brother’s eyes ever again. Last night was completely out of character for me.
I find my phone and my purse where I left them and turn toward the door when I see movement from down the hall that stops me dead in my guilt-ridden tracks.
It’s my brother. Dressed only in a pair of athletic shorts, his hair is sticking up in six different directions.
“Hey,” Owen says, eyeing me curiously. His voice is gravelly from sleep, and he stretches his arms over his head. “You stay here last night?”
“No!” I say quickly before composing myself. I have to swallow the bile in my throat before continuing with my lie. “I just came by to see if you guys wanted coffee. Figured you’d be hungover.”
“You’re the fuckin’ best,” Owen groans. He either doesn’t notice, or doesn’t call me out on the fact I’m still wearing last night’s clothes. “I need coffee. Like eight Tylenol. And maybe a breakfast sandwich from Tito’s?” he asks, mouth curving into a hopeful grin.
I roll my eyes and let out a sigh. It’s a little breakfast place we all love, but it’s always packed on a Sunday. “Fine. But if I have to wait in line for Tito’s, you have to come to my classroom on Career Day and tell my students about your job.”
“Deal,” he agrees.
“And you’re paying.”
Owen grabs his wallet from his bedroom and emerges with his black card, which he hands me no questions asked. “Thanks, sis.”
“And I don’t want to run in to any of last night’s conquests. Get rid of them before I get back.” I narrow my eyes at him and shove the card in my purse.
“Done.” Owen never lets his bunnies sleep over, but there are bound to be a few of them lingering. His gaze cuts over toward Justin’s bedroom door, which is still closed. “I think Brady had an overnight guest too. I heard them going at it. But yeah, I’ll clear everyone out by the time you get back.”
My heart hammers wildly in my chest. My own brother heard me fucking his friend last night. And Justin doesn’t even remember it. Welcome to the worst best day of my life. It doesn’t get much worse than this, folks.
When I make it back to the apartment thirty minutes later, Owen and Justin have made a significant dent in the cleanup efforts.
I pass out the coffees and breakfast sandwiches to the guys—Teddy and Asher are still here too, and everyone is nursing an obvious hangover. Luckily, Owen stuck to his end of the bargain because any overnight guests are gone.
I sip my coffee and listen to my brother and Asher trade stories about their conquests from last night.
“You disappeared early last night, Brady,” Owen says to Justin, a smirk on his lips. “Who was the hottie in your bed last night?”
I wait for Justin’s eyes to stray over to mine, but thankfully they don’t.
“No one,” Justin says in a voice so convincing I can’t help but believe he means it.
I keep it together just long enough not to arouse any suspicions, and then I leave, ducking out into the hall where the tears start falling before I even reach the elevator.
Fleeing the scene of the crime is a necessity, but going home alone is the last thing on my mind. I text my bestie, Becca, while in route to her place.
I need alcohol.
She replies when I’m sitting in the back of the Uber. She doesn’t bother pointing out it’s only ten in the morning.
What happened?
Justin Fucking Brady.
She knows how I feel about him. My stupid, secret crush wasn’t a secret I could ever keep from her. We have very few of those between us, if any.
Oh girl.
She follows up her last text up with the knife emoji and I chuckle alone in the back of the car like a crazy person.
A few minutes later, the driver pulls to a stop in front of her apartment, and Becca lets me inside and pulls me into a big hug.
“What the fuck did he do now?”
I knew she was probably thinking that he’d done something insensitive like hooked up with a jersey chaser right in front me. The truth is obviously much worse. And not something I’m going to blurt out on her doorstep.
Becca leads me inside and then stops in the kitchen to pour herself a mug of coffee. “Want some of this? I have vodka too if you were serious about the alcohol.”
“Oh God,” I groan. “I’m never drinking vodka again.”
I help myself to a bottle of water from her fridge and follow Becca into the living room.
“What the hell happened after I left?” she asks.
Becca had been at the bar with us after the game. She’s close friends with my brother too, but she’s not a big partier, so she’d opted to go home instead of come back to Owen and Justin’s place.
I let out a heavy sigh. I might as well get this over with. Time to rip off the band aid.
“I slept with Justin last night.” It feels so weird to say that out loud.
Becca’s hand flies up to her mouth. “Oh my God. Like …?”
“Yeah.”
“But,” she starts.
“Yeah,” I repeat.
“What happened? I don’t understand.”
That makes two of us. One second I was standing in his room, and the next I was on his bed with my hands in his hair as he kissed the daylights out of me.
“We drank together. He seemed so sad. It wasn’t like him. Then we started kissing and …” Tears form in my eyes and I blink rapidly.
“Where did this happen?” Becca asks.
“In his room.”
“Owen doesn’t know?”
I shake my head, curling my legs up on the couch. “No one knows. Not even Justin.”
Becca’s brows shoot up and she makes a face of surprise. “Umm …how is that possible?”
“This morning we woke up beside each other, and he didn’t even remember last night. I don’t know what he thinks happened.” I take a deep breath, holding it in my lungs. I release the breath slowly, my heart aching. “He took my v-card, Becca, and he doesn’t even know it.”
Becca moves closer on the couch and pulls me in for another hug. “Oh, sweetie. Fuck him. What an asshole.”
Silent tears spill down my cheeks as I let her hug me. She knows my entire history with Justin. Our friendship growing up. My secret longing. She’s had a front row seat to it all for years now.
When I pull myself together, she hands me a box of tissues.
“It’s not all his fault, Becca. I was there too. I may have even initiated it. The sex, I mean.” I hang my head in shame because I most definitely did initiate it.
“Here’s the thing, Elise. People treat you the way you let them.”
I roll my eyes. “Sheesh, that sounds like a line out of a self-help book.”
She shrugs. “If the shoe fits, babe.”
Becca isn’t normally the type to dish out such tough love, which tells me that I really made a colossal mistake hooking up with Justin last night. He’s a friend, sure. But he’s also a manwhore times a hundred and isn’t exactly known for his thoughtful respect or careful consideration of the opposite sex. I guess I hoped I would be the exception to that rule. Stupid, I know.
“Well it’s never happening again, so it doesn’t matter.”
It does matter. It matters more than anything, but I can’t let Becca be right. The concerned expression on her face is more than I can take right now. I’m not only nursing a massive hangover, but a broken heart too.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
“I will be.” I have to be. It’s not like I have a choice. He lives with my brother. Even if I make avoiding him an Olympic sport—I’m still bound to run into the guy.
She squeezes my shoulder. Then she grins. “Well… was he at least good in the sack?”
I laugh for the first time all day. “Oh my God, Becca!”
She chuckles, smiling at me. “What? I just want to know if the rumors are true.”
I know exactly which rumors she’s referring to. That his dick is huge. That he’s a giver in bed. That his stamina rivals that of the Energizer Bunny. They are all true. All except for one. From whispered conversations I’d overheard at various events over the years, I thought he didn’t like kissing. That one was proven false since we spent a long time making out on his bed. And I can say with certainty that the man is a damn good kisser. Passionate, but not sloppy.
“I don’t want to think about it,” I croak out finally.
Becca nods. “It’s probably better that way. You need to move on. How can he not even remember or realize that he took your virginity? Asshole,” she says firmly.
She’s right. He’s never going to be the man I need. This morning cemented what I’d secretly already known. “I know. You’re right.”
“Today, tears,” she says, patting my back. “Tomorrow, we plot his murder and take over the world.”
I sniff loudly and nod in agreement. I still feel gutted, but at least I have Becca to make me smile.
