Walk of Shame

Home > Other > Walk of Shame > Page 4
Walk of Shame Page 4

by Jennifer Dawson


  There’s a shifting over the line and an uncomfortable silence stretches between us. We’ve never been here before and I don’t think either of us is sure how to handle it. We’re not those kinds of friends. We’re friends that hang out and go dancing at clubs and laugh together at parties, but we don’t talk.

  Finally she says, “I’m sorry. You enamored him as soon as he met you, and I didn’t want him to get hurt. He’s a really good guy, Ash. Sweet and kind and gentle.”

  I resist the—Ha!—that rises in my throat. Tell that to the bruises on my hips from the imprint of his fingertips. Kind and gentle, my ass. Besides, that’s not the point. A tightness grows in my chest. “And you think I’m not good enough for that kind of guy?”

  “No!” Her voice raises several octaves. “That’s not what I mean at all. I only warned him away because you’re still hung up on Trevor. I know how bad he hurt you and I didn’t want Christopher to get caught in the middle. That’s all.”

  Hot, unexpected tears spill onto my cheeks and I suck in a tiny sob I hope she doesn’t hear.

  But of course she does, because she clucks. “Oh Ashley. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” My voice breaks. “You’re right. I haven’t been a very good person recently.”

  “No, you were hurt, you’re entitled.”

  Am I? Because I’m not so sure anymore.

  She blows out a deep breath. “There’s something else, but it’s awkward.”

  I wipe my tears and instantly still, knowing what she’s about to say. I want to stop her, somehow thinking if she doesn’t say the words I can pretend it never happened, but I don’t. Because, stupid enlightenment and responsibility.

  “I don’t want you to think it’s a big deal, or that I hold a grudge, because I don’t. But I know what happened with Chad the night of Layla’s engagement party. I’m not mad about it, because we weren’t together then, but when you latched on to Christopher, I wasn’t sure if that had anything to do with it.”

  Humiliation washes over me and I bury my head. Is this how alcoholics feel after a weeklong bender? Ashamed of their actions, as they go around with their tail between their legs, apologizing to everyone they know? Because, honestly, it sucks. I can see why they choose to keep on drinking if they have to do this over and over again.

  But I’ve committed to this path of changing my self-destructive behavior, and from the books I’ve read, it seems this is what I need to do in order to take personal responsibility. So I suck it up, gather my reserves, and deal. “I’m sorry. You must think I’m a terrible friend, my only excuse is I had no idea you were interested in him. Whenever anyone talked about him, you never hinted. If I’d known, I’d never would have done that. I hope you believe me.”

  It’s the truth. I may not have always been the best person in the world, but my girlfriends are important to me. I’d never sink so low as to go after a guy my friend liked first.

  “I do.” Her tone is soft and understanding. “I still remember when you kicked Dean Ferguson in the balls because he tried to kiss you when he was going out with Sarah. I know you didn’t know I had feelings for him because I never said anything. I also know you never really wanted Chad; you just wanted to be distracted by him. I get it. I’ve been there. I guess I felt protective of Christopher. My only excuse is being a big sister is new to me. But you’re still my friend and I shouldn’t have said that.”

  To my surprise, a weight is lifted off my chest, the tightness eases, and I feel better. Cleansed and absolved somehow. Suddenly this personal responsibility stuff makes a lot more sense. “I forgive you if you forgive me.”

  “Deal.” She chuckles. “So do you want to talk about it? Tell me what’s going on?”

  I do, but I narrow my eyes. “Are you going to tell him anything?”

  “I did tell him I’d talk to you, but made it clear I wouldn’t reveal any confidences, and I won’t.”

  I look out over the water, dark and mysterious now, beckoning me. I’ve always wanted to walk along the ocean at night. Although in my fantasies I was always with a guy, holding his hand, the waves lapping at our toes. “You were right, Christopher looked like a good distraction from Trevor. But after an hour, it didn’t seem like that. Being with him was the first time I forgot about that mess. The first time I kissed someone without thinking that Trevor is probably kissing his dancer at the same time. And then after, in the morning, I was so humiliated with my behavior I took the walk of shame and came up with my plan to change my life.”

  Ruby laughs. “Life overhauls always happen that way, don’t they?”

  “Yes.” And then I proceed to tell her my plan, my vows of swearing off men. Everything.

  When I’m finally done, she’s silent for a good minute before she asks in a soft voice, “You really like him, don’t you?”

  My shoulders slump. “Yeah, I do. But I have to stick to my plan, and we have no future, so what does it matter?”

  “Why do you think you have no future?”

  I scoff. “You know why. He’s young. He’s in school.”

  “He’s a resident, that’s hardly the same thing.”

  “He needs to go find himself a nice girl.” I hate that mythical girl already.

  “Maybe he already has.”

  I wish. But I smile, happy my friend is back on my side. “Thanks. I’m glad we talked.”

  “Me too. And have fun, okay? You’re on vacation.”

  “I will. I promise.” We hang up.

  Bright and early, first thing, I will set my life right.

  Christopher’s presence, while unfortunate, will not stop me.

  Chapter Five

  I’m sitting on my yoga mat, staring out into the ocean, the tropical breeze lovely on my skin. The sun is warm, breaking out over the horizon. Yes, I’d dragged myself out of bed for a yoga class at dawn because what better way to start a new chapter of my life?

  My hair is in a ponytail, and we’re waiting for the instructor. I arrived early, wanting an unobstructed view of the water, and there are only two other women here so far. The mats were set up on an open veranda overlooking the ocean, the instructor mat is in the front, allowing the students to have the best, most scenic view.

  It’s beautiful and I feel peaceful. My chat with Ruby did me good, and I’d actually slept well. A flush spreads out over my cheeks. After I’d spent hours reliving my night with Christopher.

  I hadn’t let myself come though, wanting to stick to my plans, so I’d fallen asleep hot and achy and wet, but I’d still slept like heaven. And, for that, I was thankful.

  Now I could focus on peace. My transformation.

  I put my hands face up on my knees and touch my finger and thumb together like I’ve seen people do. My eyes drift closed and I take it all in.

  The silence. The tranquility, the break of the waves in the distance.

  I let it wash over me.

  When a thought flits through my mind, I capture it and let it loose in the air like my guided meditations have told me to do. When I hear the shuffle of feet and the sound of people sitting, I drown them out with a mental, ummm.

  I sit like that, not thinking until the instructor issues a soft, “Good morning,” in a soothing melodious voice.

  I lift my lashes to take in the yoga instructor, a bronzed beauty. A gorgeous, dark-haired woman with huge melting-chocolate eyes and a fit body that could rival a Sports Illustrated model. One look at her and I instantly regret my thousands of piña colada calories from yesterday.

  “Today we’re going to start in mountain pose.”

  I stand, my gaze on her as she demonstrates the posture. I mimic her, feet together, raising my arms to the sun, before bringing them down to heart center and closing my eyes again at her instructions.

  “Breathe in.” Her voice is slow and soothing. “Breathe out.”

  I exhale. Feeling proud of myself for taking this first step.

  “I’d like you to begin by setting an intention for cl
ass and sending it out into the universe.”

  Please, universe, don’t let me run into Christopher for the rest of the trip. Lead me away from temptation. Not toward it.

  “Your intention can be whatever you desire, it can be about nothing more than being present in your surroundings and in this moment. Or it can be greater, more encompassing, like world peace.”

  Okay, so maybe I have a little work to do in the intention department, but hey, I’m a work in progress.

  “Today, I want you to feel strong, so using your breath, move to warrior two.” I watch as she swings her arms wide, and shifts so her body is thrust out to the side, her arm straight, her gaze over her right fingers.

  I follow suit, paying attention to my form, looking out over my fingers only for my eyes to collide with Christopher’s spectacular bare back, and even more magnificence ass encased in tight shorts that sit low on his hips.

  Oh my god!

  What the fuck, universe.

  * * *

  Christopher

  This is a silent, beachside yoga class, Ashley may not break the rules by speaking, but her body language speaks volumes. When I’d seen her sitting there on the mat, her hair back, her face free of makeup, and her eyes closed I’d thought the gods had smiled upon me, because I certainly hadn’t planned this. How could I have?

  Of course, I could have sat down behind her, so she wouldn’t notice me, but that’s not what I wanted. I want her notice. I want her aware.

  I’d tried to smile at her, but instead of returning it, she looked like she might murder me. I didn’t let that faze me. I’m going after Ashley. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot. Maybe she’s older than me. Maybe I don’t have time and she doesn’t have time. Maybe she’s made some vow of celibacy. And maybe none of it makes any sense. But I don’t care about that. There is something between us that deserves exploration.

  I’m not letting life stand in the way.

  So I smile every time our eyes lock and she shoots back daggers, her jaw is clenched, and not at all relaxed, despite the class’s best intentions.

  In all honesty, it’s not the most relaxing class I’ve ever taken.

  We hadn’t spoken but tension, sexual and otherwise, hums like a live wire. Despite my years of practice, I kept losing my focus, getting distracted by Ashley’s fantastic body decked out in miniscule yoga clothes. Every bend and stretch, every flex reminds me of our night together. The things we’d done. The ways I’d taken her.

  “Namaste,” the instructor says, raising her pressed hands to the middle of her forehead. “Thank you for joining me on this beautiful morning.”

  Ashley jerks her head in my direction, glares at me, jumps up and stomps off, heading through the arches leading into the hotel.

  I grab my discarded shirt and follow, jogging to catch up to her. Her stride is brisk as she walks down the corridor, and when I reach her, I grab her elbow and swing her around. “Hey, wait up.”

  Her brows slam together. “No, I will not! Let me go.”

  “Just wait one second.” I tighten my hold. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” She jabs her finger into my chest. “Stop following me.”

  “I didn’t follow you.” I flash her my most charming, most affable smile. “It’s fate, Ashley.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not fate.” She waves her free hand toward the veranda we just vacated, where the rest of the class still sits enjoying the scenery. “Do you honestly expect me to believe you take yoga?”

  I laugh. “Yeah, but that class was a little tame for me. I usually take Bikram Yoga three times a week in Lakeview.”

  “You do not!”

  “I’ll take you there if you don’t believe me, but be prepared to sweat.” I stroke my thumb over the tender curve on the inside of her elbow. “I’ve taken it for a couple of years, it helps with the demands of residency.” Another brush over her skin and when she shivers under me, I’m filled with satisfaction. “I also run and lift weights.”

  Unable to help herself, her gaze drifts down my body, where my chest is still bare and a flush stains her cheeks. She grits her teeth and hisses, “Let me go.”

  She yanks her arm and I look down at her. I’m significantly taller than her—six-two compared to her probably five-five. I’m not above using my height to remind her of all the things I can do, like pick her up and hold her against the wall while I thrust into her. Like I’d done in the closet, and again on the way home, in between two buildings, our mouths frantic and hungry.

  I gaze down at her. “Are you going to run?”

  “Yes.” Her attention flickers on my mouth then jerks away.

  “Can you just listen to me for a minute?”

  “There’s nothing to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want, you can just listen to what I have to say.”

  She shrugs a bare shoulder. “I can’t stop you.”

  I loosen my hold, and run my fingers up and down her arm, pleased when goose bumps break across her skin. “You can run if you need to, but I’m still going to catch you.”

  She shakes her head.

  I’m not going to bother arguing with her. I know I’m right. There’s something here. I skim my fingers over her shoulders, the curve of her neck, and her pupils dilate, her breath quickens.

  “What do you want to say?” Her voice is breathless. Needy.

  I curl my hand around her nape, and our eyes lock. Sparks, flicker and ignite, and heat fills the space between us. I slide my other hand along her waist, her bare skin smooth and warm to my touch.

  She lets out a little whimper.

  I walk forward, tightening my hold, and taking her with me as I guide us backward into a little alcove. The second I have some semblance of privacy, my mouth covers hers, and lust explodes around us.

  I press her against the wall.

  Her hands climb up my chest and clutch my shoulders.

  My tongue slides between her lips.

  Her nails dig into my skin.

  My head tilts, deepening the contact, as I become consumed with her mouth. Her taste. The press of her lips. The feel of her tongue.

  That same possession that took residence in me that night rears up.

  The kiss turns hotter. Wetter. More insistent.

  I’m generally an easygoing guy, I like sex fun and playful, but Ashley brings out something insatiable and feral in me.

  I grip her tighter.

  Our bodies slide together, the contact making us both lose our breaths.

  She shifts, lifting up, and my cock nudges between her legs. It’s so fucking perfect. She’s so perfect.

  I grip her hip, rocking into her.

  She gasps, surging up to meet me.

  A frantic, almost desperate quality fuels the melding of our mouths.

  Any control I have over the situation is quickly fraying, ready to snap.

  Before I end up taking her in public, I rip away.

  She pants up at me, her blue eyes glazed and glassy. Her lips swollen.

  I suck in air while I try and gain control over my body. I run my thumb over her lower lip, wet and red from the bruising of my mouth.

  She’ll wear the evidence of me all day. I like that idea entirely too much.

  When I speak my voice is deep. “My conference goes until five today, but I will come looking for you later.”

  She shakes her head and whispers, “Please don’t.”

  I don’t think she realizes how her fingers tighten on my skin, as though she doesn’t want to let me go.

  I trace her mouth with the pad of my thumb, wanting nothing more than to stay with her, right here in this hot, needy place where nothing but the two of us seems to matter. But I have to go. “I will see you later.”

  I kiss the no from her lips.

  “I’ll find you.” Then I turn and walk away.

  Chapter Six

  Ashley

  I’m sitti
ng in the main dining room of the hotel at a table, on the balcony overlooking the ocean, sipping wine and waiting for my dinner salad to arrive. I wanted to hide out in my room, but sheer pride won’t let me. I would not let Christopher’s presence ruin my vacation. I would not hole up in an effort to avoid him.

  This was my time. I was taking it.

  It’s been a strange day. After the shattering kiss with Christopher I’d gone back to my room, shaken, my body needy and desperate.

  I hadn’t put up any fight at all. Worse, I’d melted against him and practically begged for more.

  How had he broken through my resolve so quickly? So fast and ruthlessly?

  I’ve been with my share of guys. I like sex. Like orgasms. Like losing myself in a guy’s body. I wasn’t naive, or innocent, or kittenish. I enjoy seduction.

  But, god, Christopher did something crazy to my body.

  I don’t know how to explain, but it was like he made me forget about the performance of it. The game. When he kisses me, all thought drains away and it’s just him and me, and the way he makes me feel.

  I don’t like it. It makes me feel out of control.

  But I refused to let him win. After yoga, I’d gotten a massage, just like I’d intended. I’d also treated myself to a manicure and pedicure. I rented a bike and escaped the hotel, riding to the local market where I shopped exotic goods before taking tea in a local emporium.

  It was actually a good day. Exactly what I wanted and needed.

  Only now I was back at the hotel, and had Christopher as a constant threat looming over me. Worse, I wanted to see him. Yes, my determination not to hide was true, but I also know myself. There’s a part of me that wants him to come find me. There’s no denying the kernel of disappointment in my sternum that I’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes and there’s no sign of him.

  How weak am I?

  My salad comes, and I smile at the waiter, fixing my napkin on my lap to give my hands something to do. Making sure to cover my white, strapless sundress that highlights my new lightly tanned skin.

 

‹ Prev