Screwed (V-Card Diaries 2)

“Please do,” he says, linking his hands behind his head as he stretches out on the rumpled covers, looking so gorgeous I pause in the doorway for a moment, committing the sight of him to memory.

Just in case.

Just in case my courage fades with the afterglow.

Just in case Mr. Dread makes a comeback and manages to convince me that falling in love with this man is as dangerous as I thought it was a few days ago.

Falling in love…

It’s a terrifying thought, but as I return to bed and Derrick’s arms, the terror fades in the wake of his touch, his kiss, his voice whispering all the right things.

And for the moment, I believe in miracles.

At least for tonight.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Harlow

I don’t get to sleep until well after midnight, but as I feared, my eyes shoot open at five a.m. amidst a wave of panic.

Derrick’s words from last night reel through my head, mixed with more portents of doom from Mr. Dread, and I can’t get back to sleep, no matter how many times I close my eyes and will my brain to take me to my happy sleepy place. But my cool cave in the middle of an ancient forest, tucked behind a waterfall that mists the scent of jungle flowers onto my face, refuses to materialize.

Finally, I give up and ease out from under the covers.

I slip into my jeans and sweater from last night and tiptoe to the door, peeking back over my shoulder as I open it, letting in a shaft of light that settles on Derrick’s face. My heart lurches with a mixture of love and terror that’s becoming increasingly familiar.

I am falling in love with that gorgeous man. If I’m honest, I’ve probably been in love with him for a very, very long time.

But I’m also terrified. I can feel it now—First Dick Fever creeping up behind me like a bobcat on a hiking trail, ready to pounce as soon as I’ve dropped the last of my guard.

There’s no such thing as First Dick Fever. You’re being ridiculous. Go back to fucking sleep, the Voice of Reason pipes up, sounding crankier than usual.

But she’s never at her best without a good night’s sleep, and I barely got four hours between all the fucking and talking and more fucking and willing myself to stay awake so I could remember how it felt to be cradled in Derrick’s arms.

Just in case last night was the last time.

Just in case I let fear win…

Giving myself a mental shake, I close the door behind me and move quietly through the darkened sitting room to the other bathroom. I pull my hair into a short ponytail, brush on mascara and lip gloss—the only makeup I can be bothered with at this early hour—and head for the door.

At the last moment, I grab my phone and charger from the entry table and shove them into my purse. I seriously doubt anyone is going to be calling me at five a.m. on a Friday morning, but you never know. I might need to play Sudoku by the fire to keep my brain from whipping itself into any more of a frenzy before the dining hall opens for breakfast.

On the way down the stairs to the lobby, I mentally start one of my infamous lists. I’m a pro and con girl from way back. When I feel stuck, there’s no better way to get the decision-making juices flowing than to make a list of all the things I stand to gain—or lose—by making one call over another.

Con for Derrick—If we have an ugly breakup, there’s not much chance I’ll get custody of Evie in the divorce.

I may have been Evie’s bestie since we were little girls, but Derrick is her brother and basically her only family. Her dad has been better lately, but he’s still a cranky asshole who doesn’t “get” Evie and never has. Derrick was her surrogate dad as much as her brother when they were growing up. As such, he’s even more important to her than the average sibling.

Even if Derrick’s the one who breaks my heart and is clearly in the wrong, there’s a good chance Evie will choose to keep him and let me go. Sure, she might try to hang on to both of us for a little while, but that never works. I’ve lost enough girlfriends after informing them that their boyfriend was making out with another girl to know being the innocent party isn’t enough to guarantee you’re the last friend standing.

And what if no one breaks anyone’s heart? What if you and Derrick are great together and Evie is blissfully happy for you both?

“When did you become such a fucking optimist?” I mutter to the inner voice as I approach the front desk. Plastering a smile on my face, I ask, “Would you happen to have a sheet of paper and a pen I could borrow? I need to make a list.”