The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set

Todd nodded, accepting her answer, and made his way toward the exit.

Before they pulled out, Willow glanced back, just to make sure Ethan hadn’t come rushing out to see where she went.

Of course he didn’t, so she turned to face the front.

“You sure?” her brother asked.

“I’m great,” she assured him, nodding her head.

Looking even less convinced than before, he offered another nod but didn’t ask again.

Ethan hadn't heard from Willow since the night they had spent together—at least, he knew they spent part of it together.

It was nearly 5 am when he woke up, and Willow had already fled.

He may not have thought of it as fleeing, except she hadn't spoken to him since.

Not really.

The next day, as soon as he thought she might be awake and he had a spare moment, he sent her a text to just see how she was doing.

Her response had been, "fine."

That was it.

The last thing she had ever said to him.

He had no goddamn idea why. When he had fallen asleep, everything had been okay. She certainly hadn't seemed mad at him.

That was the only reason he could come up with for not hearing from her though.

He still kept tabs on her, even though he knew he shouldn't. Especially because every time he checked on her, there were new pictures of her with a different dipshit on her arm.

Every time he looked, it soured his mood, yet he found himself checking every goddamn weekend.

Logically, he knew he should consider himself lucky. He managed to get away with things he knew people weren’t supposed to get away with. Instead of losing everything, he had somehow managed to keep his family together, not get thrown in jail, and then Willow turned out to be fucking perfect, not only forgiving him, but striking up a friendship and then offering him her body, of all things. Then, quiet as could be, she disappeared afterward.

Nobody was that lucky.

Nobody.

He knew the other shoe had to be out there somewhere, just waiting to smack him in the head as it fell.

Jarring him out of his thoughts, Amanda’s fingers grazed his arm, then she curled her arm around him. He was lying in bed with his back facing her, but she tugged on his arm, so he rolled over onto his back and peered at her curiously.

She smiled at him. “Hey you. I thought you might be asleep.”

“Nah.” It was a ridiculous notion. Now that he wasn’t losing sleep over his first transgression, he had new ones to keep him up at night.

Sleep.

Sleep was for the innocent.

Apparently pleased at his sleeplessness, Amanda pulled herself up closer to him and leaned in for a kiss. He obliged, even though he couldn’t remember the last time she had given him a good night kiss, but then he realized she wasn’t looking for a good night kiss—she was interested in a bit more than that.

Not sure exactly what to do, he lazily rested an arm around her waist and kissed her back, but he couldn’t seem to stay in one place—his lips were on Amanda’s, but his mind was flying back to that hotel room with Willow.

It was like there was a vat of guilt, liquefied, roiling around in the pit of his stomach.