It felt like my pulse was racing, and yet, each sluggish, pained thump of my heart felt like more of a struggle than the one before it as I searched her blank stare.
No, no, no.
I wouldn’t have.
Married or not, Iwouldn’thave. Not when we were both black-out drunk. Especially when it was the woman I’d been waiting over a decade for, and who Iknewhad never given herself to anyone.
But when Mallory blinked, the slightest bit of hope snaked through my veins at the relief and gratitude and awe swirling in her blue depths before they focused on me.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
All those tiny fragments of hope vanished in an instant as dread pooled low in my gut.
“I should’ve told you,” she went on, voice thick with that earlier shame I’d gotten a glimpse of as she shifted to sitting, forcing me to do the same. “Yesterday...or back then. I don’t know, but I should’ve told you.” Her stare briefly darted away from me as her voice fell to a repentant whisper. “I shouldn’t haveliedto you.”
“No.” The word dragged from the depths of my soul, a weak plea for her not to confirm what I was already agonizing over. My head slanted but couldn’t seem to continue shaking. “No, I—no.”
“Gray—”
“Iaskedyou,” I seethed as I pushed from the couch, only to roughly shake my head as I fell right back to what I’d been saying. “No, I...I wouldn’t have—” Driving a hand into my hair, I gripped tight as I softly begged, “Mallory, please tell me I didn’t sleep with you—that I didn’t take your virginity—that night.”
She swallowed forcefully, her slender throat moving with the action and capturing my attention.
And that simple movement was all the answer I needed.
That dread raced through my veins, consuming me until I felt sick. A weak sounding laugh slipped from my strained lungs as I staggered back a step. “No wonder you hated me.”
“That isn’t—okay, it was partially from that, but I hated myself more. It was mostly everything that followed—everything we’ve already gone over,” she argued. “I was more humiliated by what happened.”
“Humiliated?” I repeated on a disbelieving scoff. “Mallory, you were wasted. You were too vulnerable to say no! I—” My chest pitched with my next exhale, and I let my head drop in shame. When I spoke again, my voice was softer, my words wrapped in sorrow. “I should’ve taken care of you, and I didn’t.”
“But you did.”
I drew in an excruciating breath and forced my stare up to see Mallory’s head tipped to the side, her eyes not quite meeting mine as she continued on a whisper. “What you said a little while ago, about how the first time you slept with me wouldn’t be on a couch?” Red crept into her cheeks as she cleared her throat. “You said something similar that night. Not that I knew—not that I remembered—until just now.”
Blue eyes finally met mine as she explained, “You were trying to stop me from, uh”—her gaze danced over my bare chest and torso—“from undressing you. You told me, ‘The first time I get to sleep with you isn’t going to be on a night that you’ve been drinking and might regret.’”
“And I still slept with you,” I reminded her through clenched teeth.
Mallory drew in a breath to respond only to press her full lips firmly together. Just as my own mouth parted to apologize for what I’d done, she breathed, “Because I said the only thing I’d regret was another day without you.”
Even with all her shocking confessions yesterday, her words still stunned me into silence and forced my aching heart to pump faster and faster before I managed to shake my head again.
When I finally managed to speak, my words were low and rough with remorse, like glass over gravel. “I still should’ve waited. I should’ve—Iknowbetter. I should’ve taken more care with you.”
Heat burned in her cheeks as her stare fell away again. But the sight of this fierce woman once again looking so unsure of herself wasn’t what had my body locking up. It was her breathless, “You did.”
She didn’t just remember the lead-up. She rememberedeverything.
And I had nothing. Nothing other than the brief glimpse I’d been given yesterday, when we’d made it into the room.
Even with the initial relief that swam through my veins at her assurance, my jaw ticked as something like jealousy wove deeper because I would’ve given anything to remember that night—ournight.
Andwhycouldn’t I remember that night?
Mallory, I’d understood. She never drank. But I was always careful. I had to be in case anything happened.
Granted, the entire team had relaxed our drink limit while in Aruba, but still not enough that we wouldn’t be able to do our jobs if necessary, and definitely not to the point where an entire night went missing.
