31. I Lied

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Snippets of what happened last night barrel into my half-asleep brain, painting a picture so vivid it wakes me up faster than my alarm

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Snippets of what happened last night barrel into my half-asleep brain, painting a picture so vivid it wakes me up faster than my alarm.

It doesn't take long to realize the bed I'm in isn't mine. Mine has a beige comforter and a dozen pillows, two of which are stuffed in silk pillowcases so my hair wouldn't frizz up. It doesn't smell of Sebastian, either, unlike the bed I'm in.

Bast is sleeping with one arm hugging his pillow and the other hanging off the bed. His parted lips are barely a few inches away from mine. I struggle to recall how many times I kissed them, but it clearly wasn't enough.

I watch him sleep for a few heartbeats and roll onto my back. The throbbing between my thighs is another reminder of what happened between Bast's gray cotton sheets. My gaze roams the room, landing on the two empty tumblers, and my stomach twists.

Memories of him telling me he'd never sleep with Elena if he were sober, him staggering on the highway and me getting the drunk Bast into my car, him getting smashed after our first kiss and kissing me after drinking on Brian's birthday appear, making me queasy.

That's what last night was — a drunken hookup he'll regret when he's awake. And I sold myself short, unable to resist him like Elena and who knows how many girls before her. Because the three times and my five orgasms proved he knows what he's doing. Only that he could do it to anyone. With anyone. I was just near.

I slip from under the comforter and search for my clothes. When I locate the pile on the floor, I scoop it up and scurry out of Bast's bedroom, careful to be silent as I softly close the door.

In my room, I grab a clean pair of panties and pull them up my legs. A bra, an oversized sweater, socks, and jeans, and I'm ready to go. Run away. Do the walk of shame out of my apartment.

I slip my feet in a random pair of sneakers, scolding myself for breaking my every rule. My confidence must've stayed in Bast's bed because the only thing I want to do is cry.

And that's what happens once I'm under the hot spray in the fitness center shower on campus. I sob with my forehead pressed to the tiled wall, hating myself for being stupid, thinking with my hormones, and loving every minute. I added one more thing to the collection called "Stuff you can't undo" because the guy I used to hate annihilated my common sense.

Once I've gotten dressed, dried my hair, and applied my makeup, I make my way out and halt at the sight of Drew exiting the guys' locker room. He arches his brow and folds his muscular arms across his chest. "Good morning. I didn't see you at the gym."

Just great. Leave it to me to run into the most perceptive guy I know, who I also had slept with, although it wasn't the same. We laughed it off and had breakfast together. And both of us were sober despite hooking up after a frat party.

"I was going to work out but changed my mind," I say, avoiding Drew's eyes.

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his pants. "You. Changed your mind about working out."

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