out of me before I threw my head back and stared at the ceiling in defeat. Once I was done feeling sorry for myself, I turned my attention to the clueless, half-naked groupie.
“If you had any brain cells left, you’d get up and go. A spoiled brat, who also happens to be drunk, does not make for an amazing fuck. He’s selfish enough when he’s sober. You’ll regret it in the morning and be too disgusted to tell your friends. It’s not worth the bragging rights.”
I hid my surprise when the girl looked like she was considering my point.
Seeing this, Loren shot up from the bed.
I didn’t know what he planned to do until he was already in front of me with my wrist in his grip. I didn’t know why I struggled when he pulled me forward. I already knew he wouldn’t force me, and I was right.
He pushed me out of the room and slammed the bedroom door in my face.
As far as I should have been concerned, my problem was solved, so why did I want to throw open the door for round two? The only exception was being left in my towel with no privacy to throw something on. That would be the moment Houston or Rich returned. Rich would blush and give me privacy, but Houston would accuse me of trying to seduce them or something.
Sighing, I turned away from the door just as Loren’s voice filtered through. “Turn over for me, baby. We don’t care about her, do we?”
Rolling my eyes, I listened to her giggle and then Loren giving her more orders as I dug through my suitcase for something to sleep in. Once I found a T-shirt, shorts, and panties, I dropped my towel, deciding I didn’t give a shit if someone walked in. As I used my towel to wrap my hair so it would dry quicker, the giggling finally stopped, and I began to hear moans coming through the door.
You don’t hear it.
The feminine moans only grew louder and more desperate as I pulled my cheeky underwear up my legs. I forced my teeth to unclench as I shoved on my T-shirt that stopped a few inches below my belly button.
By then, Loren’s groupie was coming and announcing it to anyone within hearing distance as if she were going for an Oscar. Staring at my shorts, I loosened my hold and let them fall.
I hated sleeping in more than what I had on.
I only wore panties and nothing else most nights, so I repacked the shorts and put my suitcase away in one of the closets built between the bunks and the bedroom. The bed inside was rocking now, and I heard the telltale sound of skin slapping. Listening to Loren and his groupie screw tasted like a glass of sour milk and smelled suspiciously bitter—like jealousy.
Fighting back the urge to gag, I climbed into my bunk and yanked the privacy curtain closed.
My headphones were under my pillow where I’d left them, so I plugged them into my phone, shoved the buds in my ears, and played the first song my thumb found.
“Love and War” by Fleurie played at full volume, drowning out the sound of Loren fucking someone else after pretending to covet me.
Why the hell was I even upset?
I’d known the moment the words left his lips that they were a lie. Loren chose to make her a pawn because I refused to play his fool.
Whatever.
It was his aftermath to deal with.
I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep until I was jerked awake by shouting.
“You’re drunk?”
My headphones had fallen out, allowing me to hear the argument taking place at the front of the bus.
Rich was back.
Disoriented, I touched my cheek, feeling the dried tears I must have shed in my sleep. My subconscious must have needed toughening up. There would be no crying over Loren James.
Not wanting them to know I was awake, I carefully settled onto my back before staring at the ceiling of my bunk.
“We agreed to give up this shit, Lo! Look what it did to Calvin.”
“Fuck Calvin and fuck you. If I have to look at Braxton’s dumb fucking face for the next year, I plan to be shit-faced while doing it. You got a problem? Make her leave.”
“Do you hear yourself right now?”
“Yup.” I heard something crash as Loren stumbled around. “Shit, man. I must not be drunk enough.”
“Just go to bed, Lo. I can’t look at you right now.”