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“Are you guys done?” Fox shouted from the bathroom.
I had completely forgotten about him. I started to pull away when I caught sight of my handiwork. Love bites covered her neck and both her breasts. In a few days, they’d be gone, and the only reminder she would have of me were the vague memories she might hang onto—until Bryce entered the picture again and she started planning her wedding to him.
“We should get cleaned up,” I said, hoisting her off me.
I had to put some distance between us if I had any hope of walking away from her. I turned immediately and grabbed my pants, pulling them on without grabbing my boxers. The chafing of the jeans against my cock would keep him under control.
“Brock.”
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want to see her face. It was better this way. “Yeah?”
“Are you going to look at me?”
I clenched my jaw, irritated that she wanted to take more from me when she was so willing to throw me away. I never should have gotten in that bed with her. I shouldn’t have even stopped. I should have driven through the night.
“Brock.”
I grabbed my T-shirt and pulled it over my head, then slid my feet into my boots. Grabbing the keycard, I headed for the door.
“Brock!” she cried out.
Screw that. I couldn’t sit around with her the whole night and pretend that she wasn’t tearing my fucking heart out. “Fox will look after you,” I said right before I yanked open the door and walked out.
29
WREN
We pulled up to the gates at my father’s mansion, creeping along as reporters and photographers blocked our path. There was a time when I would have given anything for them to take my picture. I would be planning out the perfect look for when my picture showed up on social media.
But I couldn’t bring myself to care about any of it. I was too concerned with the fact that Brock hadn’t spoken a word to me since he walked out of the room last night. Fox had talked my ear off, trying to make me feel better, but the only thing I wanted was a chance to explain myself to Brock. But I realized I wasn’t even sure what I would tell him.
The gates opened and we drove through, pulling up to the circle drive. Fox turned around in his seat and shot me a questioning look. “Are you going to tell your father?”
“I think he already knows,” I said slowly.
“No, I mean…about the musicals. Maybe he’ll take you to one.”
I stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “That’s what you’re concerned about?”
“Well…going to a play on Broadway is, I’m assuming, socially acceptable to someone like you. You’d probably enjoy it. Not as much as if you were with me, but I suppose I could give up the right to take you as long as you promise me not to see West Side Story without me.”
“I think I can promise that.”
He cocked a grin at me. “Alright. I think we’re good then.”
Brock shook his head and stepped out of the car, walking around to my door. Holding it open, he scanned the property instead of looking at me. I tried to draw his attention to me, but none of my usual tactics worked.
“Wren!”
My eyes snapped to my father as he came running out of the house. I knew it was all for show. He wasn’t actually that concerned about me. I blinked my eyes like I was about to cry and rushed over to him, playing along with his ruse.
“Father!”
He wrapped his arms around me, pretending to hold me tight. “The cameras are on us. Give them something good.”
I let my shoulders shake as I pretended to cry. That would give the photographers something good to print. I could see the headlines now, talking about our reunion. It would be perfect.
“Are you about done with your show?”
