I splash water on my face. Again. And again.
“Pull it together, Maddox,” I mutter.
A knock rattles the door. I freeze.
“Occupied,” I call, voice flat.
There’s a pause.
“It’s me,” Daniel says. “Let me in.”
I blink at my reflection; I look like shit. “Go away.”
“You’ve been in there twenty minutes.” His voice is quieter now. “You okay?”
I close my eyes. Fuck. Had it really been that long?
“Yeah,” I lie. “Stomach hit weird. I’ll be out in a sec.”
Another pause.
“I’ll wait out here,” Daniel says finally.
I stare at the door, then look back at the mirror.
My eyeliner’s smudged, my eyes are a little red, and I look—wrecked. Not in thefun, post-orgasmway. In theemotional hurricane wearing glitterkind of way.
Awesome.
I swipe at the makeup under my eyes, muttering to myself. “This is not the vibe.”
Because I didn’t ask for this. Any of this.
I was perfectly fine with one-night stands and morning-after shrugs, if I even made it to the morning after. Normally, I’d be gone a few minutes post-orgasm. I was good with fun. Flings. Low expectations and high reward.
So really,fuck you, universe.
If you were going to give me a story, it could’ve been theairport confession and hot cocoakind. Not theget railed by your coach and then benched like a broken toyversion.
I grip the edge of the sink and let out a long, slow breath.
“Pull it together, Maddox,” I whisper. “You’re not the fall in love type.”
Even if he is older, growly, commanding—and infuriatingly thoughtful beneath it all. Even if he watches me with heat in his eyes, and I can imagine more than just the two times we’ve had together. Even if I can feel him at a soul level when he’s even in the same space as me.
That doesn’t mean anything.
It can’t. Because relying on anyone to bring me happiness isn’t a thing I ever plan on doing. If the two people that should care about your happiness really don’t, how could a stranger turned lover ever do that? Silas just wants me. Which would be fucking amazing if I could keep my emotions far, far away from him.
I straighten, forcing my shoulders back, wiping the last of the smudged makeup from under my eyes until I look like myself again. Or at least a version of me that doesn’t fall apart over men.
One-night stands don’t get to unravel me.
And Silas Gray is not the exception.
The door clicks open like nothing ever happened.
I step out, head high, expression smooth, lips tugged into a grin I don’t feel.
