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He shifts his gaze to me.
“Yeah…” I murmur. “Why are you here? You haven’t slept at all. You look like you’re going out. And you’ve only waited for me to come back so you could bust my balls and clobber me with this shit. You wanted to know where I was and if I’d found her. You wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck her.”
“That’s not what it was.”
“No?”
“No. I’m worried about her.”
I observe him for a second.
He’s serious about that. I don’t blame him. I was worried about her too. That’s why I went out there, looking for her.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest again. “She’s probably partying somewhere. Most likely sleeping by now.”
“She may be in someone’s bed.”
“She might.”
I grin.
“I doubt, though. She’s not stupid.”
I suddenly feel bad and regretful. It’s unlike me to keep secrets, especially from him. I feel like a jerk for not telling him she’s truly fine. That nothing happened to her. Other than me.
It’s not as if it’s forbidden. It’s not. I know what happened between her and each of them.
And it would only be fair to inform everyone about what went down last night. But I am not bound by the agreement in that sense, and I just choose not to do it.
I need to think about it. See how things go.
I want to share something unique with her and have something with her she doesn’t have with the other men.
“It’s not only that,” he says, jolting me out of my head. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“Why didn’t you talk to him?”
“I had left for my room, and he was busy when I returned.”
I lift my eyebrows in surprise.
“Busy?”
“He was on his phone.”
“Talking to?”
“I have no idea. Some guy from New York.”
“In the middle of the night?”
“Yes. It was a private matter, so I made myself scarce. Anyway… I’m done. I need to go back to my room.”
He seems frustrated as he rises from his seat.
He ponders for a few moments, his gaze tipped down.
“How do you think these things should go?” he eventually asks, raising his eyes to me.
