is humming with complete and total awareness. He has no idea what he’s doing, and I’m all in. Or, almost all in. I’ve saved a small stack of chips, just enough to use my full force to pull away from Gavin as he gently starts sucking on my neck.
It has been so long since someone has kissed me that these tiny physical affections shouldn’t be a big deal, but they are massive. And he won’t even remember. That gives me even more determination, and I manage to push, wiggle, and kick my way to freedom. I swear, tomorrow, we are both going to be covered in bruises in the morning. When I looked in his bathroom while getting the sheets, I could see the start of a wicked black eye.
I’m almost out of bed when his hand comes out of nowhere, wrapping around mine. I’ve always been a tall girl, towering over other girls growing up, and wearing size ten shoes, which is great for searching clearance sales since all the typical sevens and eights are sold out. But my hand almost looks small wrapped up in Gavin’s big hand.
“Don’t go, butterfly,” he says, in a voice that goes straight to my heart.
But his eyes are closed, his breathing is evening out, and his fingers begin to loosen their grip on mine. Slipping my hand out of his ranks as one of the most disappointing moments of my love life. Not that this should count toward my love life. I need to hold on to what I can, though, because I suspect after today, my utter embarrassment at the memory of tonight is going to mean I won’t be able to look at him the same way. Seeing him vulnerable like this, being in his arms, having his hand touch mine—it is killing me.
I manage to get myself up out of the bed before he can suck me in like a tractor beam.
He smells, I remind myself. He smells bad.
And he’s not really aware. He doesn’t want you.
But he needs me. His text said so. Without me, he would have passed out alone in the living room an hour ago. He might be bleeding to death.
Wow, my head is filled with drama. I need a task to focus on, so I gather up the dirty sheets from the floor, trying to angle my head away as I breathe. Next up, I’ll find the pain relievers and see if I can get him to take some with water.
I’m pulling the bedroom door shut with my bare foot when a voice startles me into dropping all the bedding.
“Well, this is a surprise.”
For the second time today, adrenaline shoots through me. But it doesn’t subside because who is this gorgeous woman in a designer suit and why is she in Gavin’s house? How did she have the code to get in his house? My stomach lurches with an ugly shot of jealousy.
A young girl hangs back just behind her, not even looking up from a tablet in a pink case.
“Um, hi?” I don’t even have the first clue how to navigate this conversation.
“I guess you’re the new girlfriend,” the woman says, her tone haughty and her look haughtier. I don’t need to know more about her to dislike her. She’s in Gavin’s house, looking beautiful and like she belongs here. And she is sizing me up like I’m a Who down in Whoville that she could crush under her Louboutins.
She raises a perfect dark eyebrow. “Or are you the maid?”
“Neither, actually,” I say, gathering my wits enough to pick up the spilled sheets and holding them to my chest like a shield. “And you are?”
That eyebrow goes even higher. “I’m his ex-wife. I’m here to drop off his daughter.”
Chapter Eleven
Zoey
“You need to get over here,” I whisper-shout into the phone. “I need you, Abby. Code red. Emergency.”
She sighs into the phone. “Trust me. If I could get over and dive into the middle of the soap opera you’re living in, I would. But my sister-in-law called first with her own emergency. I’m on my way to Katy to help with my niece and nephews.”
I groan. “I just saw you like two hours ago.”
“And she called me an hour ago. I left from mini golf and hopped on the highway.”
“What am I supposed to do?” I hiss, eyeing the girl on the couch, who still hasn’t actually met my eyes. I don’t want to know what she’s watching on the tablet. As long as