My heart kept beatingescape, escape, escape.
What if Preston hated me?
What if he regretted what we did?
What if he never wanted to do it again?
Or worse, what if it changed our friendship? The thought of not talking to him every day had me losing it, and I dialed Logan’s number.
“Hello, my wild butterfly.”
“Let’s leave. Where are you?”
“Are you okay?” she asked, concern evident. “Where are you?”
“At the hotel. I need to get out of here. I just snuck out of Preston’s room.” I gasped, not breathing between sentences. “I’ll hide in the lobby.”
“A lot to unpack there, Dan the Man, and boy, will we discuss this in the car. I’ll be ready in five.” She shuffled something in the background, and Quentin’s deep voice was muffled.
“Okay great.” My throat tightened, Logan’s words from yesterday returning. She warned me about hurting Preston, and I’d blown her off.
But I left him in a hotel room.
This was the guy who’d stayed at a shitty bar to ensure I was safe. The guy who’d helped me a hundred times the last three years. He didn’t deserve me running out on him. Adrenaline surged through me as I backtracked. As I went back up the elevator, my knees shook the entire time.
I’d knock and tell him I’d see him back at home. That was all.
Yet when I stood outside the door, I couldn’t raise my hand to knock. My body forgot to work. Normal functions were too hard because the rock in my stomach paralyzed me. I had no idea what to feel, but I didn’t want Preston upset. That was the driving force.
Before I could do anything, the handle twisted, and Preston opened the door, his eyes widening in surprise before settling on something like anger. “Figured you were long gone by now.”
“I uh, was.”
“Did you forget something?” He pushed the door open wider, his gaze over my shoulder and not on me. “Go on and look.”
I hated the distance. “I didn’t… no, I don’t need to.”
Preston sighed. “Well, I’m going to meet my team. Here’s the keycard if you need back in. The room is available for a few more hours.”
He handed me the key, still not looking at me, and I wanted to melt into the hotel carpet. I missed how he used to stare at me, like he cared for me. Now, he would rather be anywhere else. I stared at the key, unable to move my fingers. I wanted to shout a million things at him, that last night was amazing and he was amazing and that I loved him so much and our friendship couldn’t change, but instead, I stood there, quiet and awkward—two things I never was.
“Or don’t take it. Whatever.” He rolled his eyes and head down the hallway with his duffel bag. He had was wet on the sides, like he’d already showered, and worry etched itself into my skin.
If he already showered, that meant he’d been awake when I snuck out. He watched me sneak out and let me.
Fuck. My chest ached at the thought. “Preston,” I whispered,my head splitting into two from the headache. He faced me, his hazel eyes meeting mine with nothing but indifference.
He truly looked like he didn’t care about last night or what happened. Something I usually wanted from hookups. Yet from him, it killed me a little bit.
“What, Jordan?”
“Are you hungover?” I blurted out, desperate to keep this conversation going. It felt like too much was on the line if we didn’t continue talking. It was like once he disappeared our friendship was over.
He blinked, his jaw flexing as he shook his head. “No.”
“My head is killing me right now.”
“Take some aspirin. Here,” he said, reaching into his bag and grabbing a bottle of water. “Drink this too. It’ll help.”
