In retrospect, I probably should have used his bathroom to change, but all I could think about was just getting out, getting away from the dispassionate apathy in his eyes.

I could still feel the humiliating prickle on my skin, the burn of embarrassment I’d felt as he looked me over and dumped my clothes on the bed. We’re done.

Like we’d just wrapped up some sort of business transaction.

I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d dumped a few twenties on the bed next to my clothes.

In all honesty, some part of me half-expected it, just from the coldness of his voice. That was why I’d left so quickly, why I hadn’t lingered, even long enough to get dressed. I wasn’t about to risk any more embarrassment at his hands.

Once inside my room, I dumped the clothes into the laundry basket, burying them so I wouldn’t have to see them later, then I gathered up some pajamas and hurried into the shower. Turning up the water as hot as I could stand it, I showered, scrubbing my skin with a loofah sponge until I was bright pink all over. My skin stung a little when I climbed out, and I still felt like I could smell him on me.

“No, you can’t,” I muttered. To further convince myself, I used the lavender-scented body oil and smoothed it across my skin before slipping on my pajamas. I spent twenty minutes blow-drying my hair, brushing it with long, patient strokes, closing my eyes so I could pretend it was my mother doing it, the way she’d done when I was a child.

When the tears started to fall, I didn’t bother wiping them away.

My emotions had been hovering just under the surface all day—for several days, probably, and now all that raw emptiness was exposed, torn open by Sean’s callousness.

I knew it wasn’t entirely his fault.

It wasn’t like he was to blame for the pain I’d been living with since my parents died.

But I’d been empty and hurting for so long, and for some stupid reason, I’d given into that neediness earlier, and when he kissed me, I hadn’t turned him away like I should have.

No.

I’d given in.

And then he’d fucked me and basically thrown me out.

There’s more to it than that, a small voice inside chided.

“I don’t care,” I muttered. Turning off the blow dryer, I put it up and gave my hair one final brush.

Feeling naked and vulnerable, I stared in the mirror. My blue eyes were now red, tears streaking down my face. Angry with myself, I swiped them away.

I’d been stupid and careless.

There were reasons I didn’t like to be careless. Carelessness led to mistakes. Caution helped one avoid such things.

If I’d been cautious earlier, I could have avoided this mistake, and I wouldn’t be hurting like this.

In that moment, I desperately missed my mother.

Turning away from the mirror, I moved into the bedroom and turned off the lights. Lost and empty, I slid under the covers and grabbed one of the fat, fluffy pillows, pulling it to my chest.

It didn’t do anything to ease the ache inside.

I missed my mother.

I missed my father.

I wanted them both back desperately, but just then, I would have given anything—anything—to have my mom with me so I could cuddle up next to her and have her hug me close, ask me what was wrong.

“I was stupid, Mama,” I whispered.

Tears burned my eyes and leaked out.

“I was lonely, and I thought maybe I’d just have one night where I wasn’t alone, and now it’s even worse than before.”

What would she tell me?

I had no idea.

I’d never been in this position before, had never acted so recklessly and put myself in a position to be hurt.

You learned a lesson, I decided. That’s what she’d say. And it hurt.

And she’d hug me close and tell me she was sorry, that life was sometimes shitty, and it wasn’t fair that pain sometimes came along with the lessons we needed to learn.

The thought of her soft, understanding voice murmuring that in my ear made me cry even more.

I didn’t even try to stop the tears.

Sometimes, the only thing to do was let them come and ride out the storm.

I woke with my head, heart, and body aching.

My throat wasn’t feeling all that great either.

Sunshine glared into my eyes, and I lifted a hand to block it out, confused. I had my alarm set to go off every morning at seven-thirty but judging by the angle of the sunlight shining in my eyes, it was way past seven-thirty.

I fumbled on the table for my phone but came up empty.

Slowly, I sat up and looked around. Tumbled, tangled hair fell into my eyes. I pushed it back and impatiently fought my way out of the twisted sheets and blankets.

The pounding in my head only increased, and once I was able to sit on the edge of the bed, I took a few moments and did just that, whimpering a little as the pounding increased.

Memories from the past night pieced themselves together, and I swallowed. The rawness of my throat made more sense now. I’d bawled my eyes out, crying myself to sleep. The crying jag accounted for both my headache and the sore throat.

As for the soreness of my body…

With a sigh, I lifted my head to stare at my reflection in the large mirror hanging over the bureau across the room.

The expression of disgust was quite appropriate, I decided. It suited how I felt right down to a T.

I was disgusted with myself for just about everything that had happened last night, from the time Sean had kissed me to the moment I’d finally fallen asleep.

I should have pushed him away.

I hadn’t.

I shouldn’t have slept with him.

I had.

I should have expected him to lash out.

When he did, I reacted like a kicked puppy.

Then I’d spent a good hour, at least, crying like a girl who’d been dumped on prom night.

All because he’d acted exactly as he had from the beginning. How could I let that hurt me?

It didn’t make any sense.

Sean was acting as he had from pretty much the beginning. The moment anyone tried to get close or help him, he shoved them away. He’d been vulnerable after the nightmare, and I’d witnessed it. Of course, he was going to act badly over it.

I should have expected it.

Looking at it through a filter of a few hours, it was a little easier to set that pain aside.

Last night had been an aberration. I’d been hurting and vulnerable too. I couldn’t completely absolve myself of responsibility, but I was human.

I was allowed to have weaknesses.

I’d learned my lesson, and it wouldn’t happen again.

But even as I sat there, heat bloomed through my belly, hot enough to scorch even now, and I gripped the edge of the mattress, curling my fingers into it as I fought to steady my breathing.

Sex with Wylie had never been like that.

Sean had done more to turn me on with a single kiss than Wylie had managed through kisses, foreplay, and even intercourse.

“He’s clearly had a lot of practice,” I muttered, needing to hear the words voiced out loud. “Remember what Ayiesha told you.” I thought of the way I’d seen him flirting with people at the sports bar, how he’d tried to lure me in that first night I’d seen him. Not even an hour later, he’d been leaving with another woman entirely. “The guy’s a playboy.”

And he’d dissolved the bones inside me like they were just putty.

Huffing out a breath, I pushed off the bed.

“Sex,” I told myself. “It was just sex.”

Sex with a guy I found myself thinking about way too often, yes.

But still…it was just sex.

Once more, a pang of longing hit me. I wanted my mother. I wanted somebody to talk to, damn it, and all my life, the person I’d talked to the most had been my mother. I’d had friends, but nobody I’d been that close to. Nobody like her.

I’d never regretted that, but now I found myself wondering if maybe I shouldn’t have worked on building deeper friendships with others. If I had, at least I’d have somebody to reach out to now.

“Brooding isn’t going to help,” I told myself. Squaring my shoulders, I made myself climb out of bed. Muscles twinged in protest, aching in ways I hadn’t ever ached. Sex with Wylie paled in comparison to what I’d experienced last night.

Damn Sean for ruining it too.

I hadn’t been expecting him to fall onto his knees and start making profound confessions or anything, but I also hadn’t expected him to be such an outright jerk about things either.

We’re done.

Disgusted with myself all over, I strode into the bathroom and peeled off my pajamas. Even though I’d only worn them once, I stuffed them into the hamper, studiously avoiding thoughts about the last pieces of clothing I’d buried.

Pinning up my hair, I climbed into the shower and turned the hot water up. Even though I’d practically scalded my skin off the night before, I spent a good ten minutes under the spray trying to ease tight, stiff muscles, trying to wash away the memories of the night.

I succeeded, partially, when it came to easing the muscle aches.

As for the second…well, I had a feeling only time would help there.

After showering and getting dressed, I spent a good thirty minutes searching my room for my phone and coming up short. My face heated as I thought of where it most likely was. Approaching Sean to ask if it was in his room pretty much topped the list of things I didn’t want to do.

It was only eleven, which was late for me, but I’d yet to see him walking around the big house before noon, so I figured I had a bit of a reprieve. While I had the chance, I ducked into the kitchen to make myself something to eat.

I came up short as I approached the counter, though.

My phone sat there, in a bowl of rice, along with a note written in unfamiliar handwriting. The guy who took care of the grounds must have found it.

I was clearing away the snow and found this on the patio. It got a bit wet.

“Thank goodness,” I muttered, grabbing the phone. It turned on without a hitch. I’d updated to a newer model recently and was now profoundly glad I’d splurged a little. It was waterproof up to four feet, so hopefully, that meant the snow wouldn’t have any effect

Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to keep it in the rice a little longer, I put it back in the dish and went about making breakfast.

It was a good call. I’d barely finished putting my dishes in the rack when Sean came in. I sensed him more than heard him, my skin prickling and heating, my nipples tightening. Stupid, stupid body. Even my heart, still bruised from last night, thumped harder and faster. Summoning up every bit of will I possessed, I gave him a disinterested look and went to scoop up the dish of rice.

Sean shifted in the doorway, his gaze darting away.

“Excuse me,” I said.

Sean lingered, drawing in a breath. “Tish…”

I slanted a look up at him. “I need to get to work,” I said bluntly. “Can I get past?”

For a second, I thought he’d say something.

But he just shifted to the side, letting me pass. I took great care not to touch him.

Maybe if I’d done that from the beginning, this whole mess could have been avoided.

The beauty of hindsight.