Page 13 of Wicked Love

“How could I have been so clueless? And I wasn’t even that drunk when we met.” I breathed through my nose. “Girl. You’re a piece of trouble. I knew it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, tipping a hip. “Takes one to know one.”

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t look so righteous. Joe. I heard stories about you. People talk. I’ve been here like two months and learned fun stuff about your sexcapades. Don’t act like you’re above me. My classmates keep asking me if I’m the sister of the fuckboy. And you graduated that high school years ago. Want me to explain it to you? Or to refresh your memory? The principal’s daughter you banged in her office in senior year—does the name Lizzy Cantrell ring a bell? You’re pretty famous in Redmond Academy.”

I shook my head. “Okay. Fine. I never claimed I was a monk. Told you I wasn’t always a gentleman but never a jerk. I didn’t lie. And my high school sexual encounters have nothing to do with the current situation.” Once again, reality hit me like a cold shower. “I slept with a minor. Not only a minor, but also a girl almost six years younger than me. That’s sick. I’m sick. Something is wrong with me.”

Grace stepped forward, putting a stop to my pacing with a hand splayed over my chest.

I flinched under her touch.

She didn’t remove her hand.

Soon my heart rate decreased at her contact, and I breathed easier as my body recognized her, and my mind realized I couldn’t undo our night together.

“Joe, look at me. Age is not important here. What we shared last night wasn’t a lie. It was real.”

“Well, it matters to me.”

“In my defense, I had no idea who you were. I swear. How was I supposed to know you were Phil’s son? It’s not like we shared IDs or something.”

This house was a freaking museum. How could she have known? It wasn’t like my face was plastered all over the place. The only framed picture my dad had of me was on his desk in his office, and I must have been twelve.

Her hand cradled my cheek, and for a beat, I forgot the girl in front of me was seventeen and forbidden, relaxing against her touch. The one still branded on my skin all these hours later. Yep, I was a sick bastard. No doubt.

“We can’t,” I whispered.

“I know. It felt amazing to live a life where I could be who I wished to be. And last night, I didn’t trick you.”

I quirked one brow.

“Okay, I lied about my age. It’s a small detail.”

“No. It’s a big one. I feel like a creep. You had no right to pretend to be eighteen when you’re not. It’s not cool. And I could get arrested for that.”

She bobbed her head. When she looked at me, I could read the defeat in her eyes. They glimmered with tears. “I’m sorry. I never thought we’d meet again. Or else I wouldn’t have dragged you into my stuff.” She paused. “I’m going through some things. As you may have noticed, being my mother’s child isn’t an easy feat. It comes with a lot of shaming. My world isn’t as pretty and shimmery as it looks.”

She spun on her heels and left my bedroom, taking all the viable oxygen with her. I suffocated as I landed on my bed, my hands pressing against my skull, hoping the last ten minutes of my existence had been a nightmare that I would wake up from.

* * *

Unable to wrap my head around how the last twenty-four hours of my life played out and my biggest screw-up in forever, I dialed my best friend. With the music deal he’d just signed, the guy had been super busy lately. Even though we hadn’t seen each other as much as we used to when we were roommates in college, he was still one of my favorite people.

“Man, I was about to call you,” Anderson greeted me. “You’ll never guess who I bumped into today. I’m still shaking. This entire thing is a clusterfuck.” I could hear the emotions lacing his voice.

“Well, you’ll never guess what I did,” I said, cringing at the memory of the previous night.

“Abby,” Andy said at the same time I said, “I fucked a minor who turned out to be the daughter of my father’s girlfriend.”

“Shut up,” we both said at the same time.

“Abby?” I asked, my eyes widening at the piece of information. “Your Abby? The one who got away and you spent months pining over? That Abby?”

“The one and only. She’s my dad’s new assistant. She dropped a bomb on me, but I won’t say more until I have had time to talk with her about it.” He paused. “You slept with a teenager? Were you drunk, or were you born stupid?”

I sighed. “Both. I didn’t know it was her. She pretended to be someone else. A college-aged someone else. I fell for it. It was the single most amazing night of my life. We connected. It wasn’t just physical. I can’t explain it. And hours later, when I drove to my father’s mansion, I came face to face with the girl who disappeared from my bed early this morning.”