Page 128 of Lucky 14

But instead of going into the room full of moans of pleasure, I started snooping. And for the first time in days, I found the office unlocked.

I can’t help but feel guilty for being in here. For going behind Wyatt’s back. And that makes me clench my fists.

Why the hell do I feel guilty? Wyatt kidnapped me. To be killed.

That doesn’t alleviate the heavy press of guilt. To try and relieve some of the pressure, I swipe to the lock screen.

“Hey.”

I jump straight up, whirling around to see Oakley standing in the dim light of the doorway, hair messy.

My face flushes, and I try to catch my breath. Oakley frowns, looking at the phone in my hand. “What…” he scrubs a hand down his face. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to escape.” The words come out snappier than I mean them to. I take a deep breath. Oakley is just trying to survive with me. I can’t alienate my ally.

My hot ally, looking like he just rolled in from sex island. The half-lidded look with his bare chest on display with all those tattoos… Suddenly, I remember what his dick felt like in my hands, and then I can’t remember anything about anything.

“Hey, we need to talk,” Oakley says.

His tone snaps me back into focus. Is he guilty about fucking Kyan after messing with me? He shouldn’t be. I mean, it’s complicated, but I understand why he’s doing it. Kyan is a flirt, and Oakley is drawn to that like a hummingbird to sugar.

I realize I’ve been silent for too long, so I shrug. “You don’t have to explain. You can fuck whoever you want to.”

There’s silence, and I glance at Oakley to see that his face is flushing and he looks slightly confused.

Oh…oh god. Was he not talking about that…? And then I realize I just gave him permission to fuck whoever he wanted. As if I were in the position to give that permission. As if he and I had something. Right, ‘cause I touched his dick once? Kissed him? I can still feel the imprint of his lips, and I shake my head, trying to shake the memory away. This is ridiculous. This is why I don’t mess with people; I start taking it way farther than it needs to go.

I let the anger and humiliation take over, covering for my weakness. “I mean, fine, fuck our captor if that’s what makes you feel better.” Only, it comes out sounding bitter and even more jealous.

I bury my face in the locked phone.

“I’m not…” Oakley pauses, and I can hear him taking a breath and pausing his anger before it gets started. Recently, all we’ve been doing is fighting, and that tension between us could be cut with a knife. Then Oakley lets out a hissing breath. “I told him.”

I type in random numbers, trying to unlock the phone. Whatever. He can tell him he’s the prettiest man on earth for all I care. The phone keeps denying me.

“That’s it?” Oakley asks, sounding unbelieving.

“What do you want me to say?” I stifle a growl as I get locked out for a minute.

“I don’t know…I thought you’d be mad, but okay.” I hear him move.

“Should I be mad?” I turn to look at him, arms crossed. Oakley glances away from me and won’t look at me. It makes me narrow my eyes. Wait. Should I be mad?

“No, it doesn’t matter.” Oakley waves his hand and starts to walk away. Like he’s running from me. Warning bells start going off in my head.

“No.” I stand. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing,” he snaps.

He’s snapping, which means he’s defensive. Which means he thinks he did something wrong. And if it isn’t fucking, then…

My stomach drops into my toes.

“Oakley.” I grab his arm, stopping him from leaving. “What did you tell him?”

Oakley stops, still not looking at me.

Deep down, I know what he told him, but I can’t acknowledge it. The reality floats around my consciousness, and I don’t want it to be real. “Oakley.” My voice has turned pleading.