“Stop it, Laurel,” he says, pushing a button, then taking a screenshot. “All set. I booked you a red eye home tonight so you won’t have to waste more money on a hotel. Sin will give you a ride to the airport.”
I hate him.
I hate him, I hate him, I hate him.
This is the single most humiliating moment of my whole entire life, and I want nothing more than to get out of it. Nodding, I walk back toward the couch for my purse. “Don’t bother. I’ll get myself an Uber.”
Before I can get to it, Sin grabs my handbag and stands. “I’ll drive you.”
The last thing I want to do is sit in an enclosed space with him after this experience. My pride cannot take much more. “No thanks.”
“Wasn’t offering,” he says, heading for the door.
Since he has my purse, I have to go after him. “Please give me my bag.”
Without saying another word to Rafe, Sin rips open the front door and walks out. Apparently he’s confident I’ll follow since he has my bag—and he’s right. My phone and wallet are in that bag; I can’t go anywhere without it.
“Please,” I call, shutting Rafe’s door behind me and speeding up to try to catch up with Sin. “I am humiliated and I want to go home. Have a little fucking sympathy. Let me leave.”
He indicates his car with the sweep of his hand. “The sooner you get in, the sooner you can leave.”
“You’re as mean to me as he is. I will walk before I ride with you.”
Sin flashes me the screen of his cell phone. “He forwarded your ticket confirmation to me, not you.”
“I need to be alone,” I say, a little desperately. “I’m not being pointlessly stubborn, here. I require solitude right now. That was horrible.”
“I know,” he replies. “It wasn’t fun to watch, either.”
“Then give me my purse and let me leave.”
We’re standing outside his car now. Instead of doing as I ask, he grabs me by the arm and drags me around to the passenger side. Opening the door, he gestures again, urging me inside. “I won’t give you the bag until you’re inside my car.”
Completely exasperated, I tip my head back and look up at the sky. Even though my life feels more like a landfill right now that it has at any point prior, I feel like I can breathe again. The stillness of night and the peaceful lights dotting the sky bring me a small measure of peace. Looking up at the stars in a clear night sky reminds me of my childhood. It reminds me the telescope I got for Christmas one year, of trying to find planets with Carly in Nana’s backyard, then lying together on the cool grass and pointing out constellations.
Oh, God, the tears are back.
I miss my sister. I miss safety and comfort, and a heart that doesn’t feel vaguely achy. I want to go home. I should have never kept this from Carly and tried to deal with it on my own. I definitely should not have involved Rafe. Vince doesn’t give good advice; I should have known that. I should have owned the gigantic fucking mistake I made sleeping with Rafe and just told her about the mess I got myself into. My sister has never been less than supportive. Even if I disappointed her, she wouldn’t have tried to make me feel bad.
My humiliation grows exponentially as a tear slides down my cheek. I’m too close to Sin and he’s staring right at me, so I know he sees it. If I don’t meet his gaze, I can pretend otherwise. To escape this mortifying moment as quickly as possible, I quit fighting a battle I’m not going to win and drop into the passenger seat.
Sin watches to make sure I get my hands and legs in, I guess, then he pushes the door shut and walks around to the driver’s side.
9
Rafe
After the longest, most annoying day in recent history, I loosen my tie and peel off my jacket, attempting to roll some of the aggression out of my shoulders.
This is not how I envisioned this night ending.
I expected this bizarre day to end pleasantly, with Laurel’s warm body tucked against me, her long chocolate waves draped over my bicep. I expected her warm blue eyes looking up at me, her soft, fuckable lips littering my chest with kisses before we fell asleep.
I did not expect for her to do something so fucking desperate. On one hand, I consider that she must be truly distraught to resort to this sort of bullshit. I don’t know Laurel well, but she has always struck me as being quite sincere. Calculation is perhaps the least attractive quality a woman can possess, but I never noticed any in her before. Laurel never struck me as the sort of woman who would try to trap a man like this. I acknowledge she’s young, and young people do stupid things, but trying to foist an accidental pregnancy off on me?
It pisses me off too much to maintain any sympathy.
If I’m being completely honest, I don’t love the mental image of her out trying to recreate those nights with me using some punk-ass kid as a stand-in, either, but that only irritates me more. Laurel was just a hook-up, so that shouldn’t bother me. I’m probably overly annoyed about it because now I’m home alone and aggravated, while the nice warm body I expected to keep me company has left the fucking premises. Sure, I could go back out—or make a simple phone call—and have a replacement here within the hour, but I don’t feel like it.