Page 32 of Edged
“I meant everything I said. You were…that was really good, Owen.”
I noticed that he didn’t clarify that he’d wanted me to stay, which was good. Because I wasn’t going to. No matter how much he asked or begged, which had been nowhere near enough for me to even entertain the idea in the first place.
I cleared my throat and slicked my wet hair off my face, turning to face him.
“I’ll go get you some water,” he said.
“I’m in the shower, Archer. I’m fine.”
“To drink.” He let himself out of the bathroom and when he came back, he’d zipped up his pants. Archer passed me one of the small water bottles from the mini fridge and I emptied it in two swallows. I hated he was right, that I’d needed the drink.
“Are you going to stand there and watch?” I asked, maybe a little harsher than was fair, but that was the way of things between us. Our decision-making was once more clouded with sex and then when everything was said and done, when the lights were on, that was when the regret set in.
Archer regarded me carefully, even as the steam of the shower started to fog up the glass and obscure him from my view.
“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, again slipping out of the bathroom.
The door closed behind him with a soft snick and I busied myself with everything that I was meant to do in a post-sex shower.
And, as expected, when I was finished, Archer was gone.
CHAPTER9
ARCHIE
Sittingin my car in front of Flynn’s house was not how I’d intended to watch the sunrise Sunday morning, but going home seemed like an even worse idea than staying out.
After making Owen shaky with want and then depositing him into the shower, I’d let myself out of the hotel and then driven in a circle of the city, all the while cursing myself and my unbearably impulsive life choices.
Driving up PCH, I reminded myself I was lucky. That I could count the regrettable decisions of my life on one hand. I didn’t think many people could say that, but I read them off to myself, out loud, for good measure just the same.
One, sleeping with Owen the night I graduated.
Two, jerking Owen off in an alley behind a BDSM club ten years after that.
Three, going to Owen’s hotel and doing it again less than twenty-four hours later.
Yeah, that was pretty much the entirety of my bad decisions.
Sure, I could argue that ghosting him and Mandy after point one was also something that should warrant regret, but they were basically the same thing and three mistakes felt more manageable than four. Three felt like I wasn’t a huge fuck-up, even though the sleepless nights I’d experienced in my twenties when I’d been missing my best friend, while also fantasizing far too many times about coming inside of him, often led me to believe otherwise about myself.
The moral of the story was that when it came to Owen Murray, I had no self-control, something I normally prided myself on maintaining. I’d learned my lesson after him, though. I’d come up with rules and expectations, not just for myself but for the people I took to bed. And with the exception of the past weekend, I’d never had an issue sticking to them. Maybe it was better for us both that Owen was going back home the next day.
Or today, as it seemed.
Because if I couldn’t trust myself to act in accordance with my own moral and sexual compass, I’d just get us into more trouble.
Again.
A knock on my passenger window startled me, and I jumped, the seatbelt locking around my chest and bolting me to the warm leather seat of my Audi. After I caught my breath, I looked up and found Flynn bent down, two cups of coffee in his hand and reading glasses perched thoughtfully on his nose.
I reached over the center console and pulled the handle to open the door. Flynn climbed into the passenger seat with a groan, then passed me one of the steaming mugs.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, yawning and stretching his legs out as far as the footwell allowed.
“What areyoudoing here?” I countered.
The whole car smelled like coffee already, hopefully enough to mask the smell of salt and sex that no doubt oozed out of my pores.
