Perfect Regret (Bad Rep #2)(12)
Author: A. Meredith Walters

And Garrett freaking Bellows didn’t say a damned thing. He just lay there, watching me, as though he found me supremely entertaining.

“Do you know where my keys are?” I asked him, hating that I had to talk to him at all. I would rather have left with my head hung in shame, never to reveal my night as Miss Skankalicious to anyone ever.

Garrett pointed across the room. “You dropped your bag when we came in here last night. I’m guessing you’ll find them in there,” he remarked dryly. He stood up and I was treated to another view of his body. And my body tingled in response.

My eyes fell onto the tattoo on his side and words floated through my brain.

Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.

Where the heck did that come from? My chest pitter-pattered painfully for some unknown reason.

Time to shut this crap down here and now.

“I just need to get out of here,” I said more to myself than to him but he heard me loud and clear.

“Why the rush?” Garrett asked, cocking his eyebrow. His blasé nonchalance prickled my already testy nerves and reminded me of why he annoyed the shit out of me. People that laid back drove me crazy.

“No sense in wasting anymore of your time. I think we’re done here,” I spat out, glaring at him. I knew I was being horrible but I was mortified by my behavior.

Riley Walker does not get so drunk she blacks out.

Riley Walker does not have sex with a guy she barely knows; particularly when said guy was one she could barely stand.

And apparently Riley Walker was now talking about herself in the third person. Hello insanity!

Garrett pulled on a pair of sweat pants and lifted my purse. I grit my teeth as he crooked his finger in my direction. “You want it, come over here and get it.” He was messing with me. Trying to make me more uncomfortable than I already was.

Well screw him!

Wait… I had already done that…Ugh!

I snatched it from him, making sure not to touch him as I did so. More flashes flooded my brain.

His lips. His hands. The way he said my name right before he kissed me.

What I wouldn’t give for another bought of alcohol-induced amnesia right about now.

Garrett’s eyes heated for a moment, as though he could read my mind. His gaze slid down the length of me and then came back up to meet my eyes where they cooled slowly. His mouth, entirely too pretty to be a guy’s, set into a firm line and for a second, I felt a flash of regret.

Not for our night together. But for the way I was treating him. He didn’t deserve to be shitted on because I was feeling like a f**k up. I opened my mouth to apologize, a Riley Walker first, when he beat me to the punch.

He walked passed me to the bedroom door and opened it wide. He gave me a cold smile. “Oh, we’re done here all right.” Garrett ran his fingers down the side of my neck and I couldn’t help but notice the way his face softened a bit before he went in for the kill.

“It was fun, but I won’t be signing up for round two. You can leave now.” His grin was as brittle as broken glass and I felt my face flush red in a mixture of humiliation and gnaw-through-his-jugular rage.

To hell with the apology!

I leaned up on my tiptoes, my hands gripping his shoulders. My lips hovered near his and I smirked inwardly at the hitch in his breathing. “Well it’s a good thing you were entirely forgettable then,” I whispered, licking my lips slowly and chuckling as Garrett’s eyes dropped to my mouth.

“Now get the f**k out of my way,” I bit out, moving away from him. Garrett blinked, his eyes becoming once again glacial cool and he gestured me out into the hallway and then proceeded to slam the door behind me.

Well that went well, I thought as I made my way as stealthily as possible out of the house. There were a few people passed out on the couch in the living room, a guy snoring on top of the pool table. I could hear voices in the kitchen, recognizing Cole and Mitch. I scurried out of the house as fast as my little legs could carry me.

I remembered that Maysie had most likely came and looked for me last night. Crap! She must think I was dead in a ditch somewhere. Or worse. She could know that I spent the night at Garrett’s house! How was I going to explain that one?

I was abducted by aliens and just now escaped. No. How about I was playing a riveting game of Scrabble and lost all track of the time?

I was done for.

Bad mistakes were Maysie Ardin’s MO, not mine. I felt like a miserable failure on all fronts. I was hung-over and ashamed. Not a good combination when you felt like throwing up all over your shoes.

I practically ran to my car and got inside. I started it up and was then compelled by some masochistic urge to look one last time toward the house. Curtains moved in a second story window and I knew that I saw the unmistakable outline of Garrett against the glass.

Crap, there it was again.

Regret.

And as I drove away from Garrett’s house, I wanted desperately to leave that unfortunate feeling behind but it took up quiet residence in my heart. And I feared it wouldn’t let go anytime soon.

My mind was a mess of hazy recollections from the night before and the memory of Garrett’s face when I essentially told him to f**k off. Man, I had been such a shrew.

I could remember talking to him on the couch last night. Being with him must have made some crazy sort of sense at some point.

I shook my head and turned on my radio, hoping the sound of angsty chick rock could drown out the remnants of my guilt.

My phone chirped from inside my purse. Digging it out, I glanced at the screen, feeling an encroaching sense of dread as I saw the number of missed calls and texts from Maysie.

Was it too late to make a run for it? Maybe I could head to Mexico and assume a secret identity. That way I could avoid the morning after explanations my roommate would be expecting.

So I took my time heading home. I stopped at McDonald’s and got myself a coffee. Then I decided I needed a few magazines. And while I was at it, I needed to fill my car up with gas.

And you know what, a lovely scenic drive on the back roads of Bakersville was just what the doctor ordered.

I had successfully prolonged the inevitable for a whole hour and a half. It was almost eight when I finally pulled into the apartment complex parking lot. I cut off the engine and sat there for a while.

Why was I so scared to go in and face Maysie? It could be because I felt like such a hypocritical loser. I was notorious for dishing out advice, telling my best friend how she should be living her life. Laying into her when she makes choices I deemed irresponsible. And yes, I had judged her for it. I hated that I had, but it didn’t change the fact that Judgmental was my middle name.