Throttled (Wild Riders #1)(41)

I glanced in the mirror hanging beside the front door before I opened it. I’d definitely looked better. My hair was a rat’s nest tangled with bad decisions and far too much dancing. The mascara I’d put on before I went out was unflatteringly smeared below my eyes. I licked the tips of my fingers and tried to erase the aftermath of too much to drink and pulled open the door. I noticed Georgia’s purse and keys sitting there along with mine, and wondered why she didn’t get up to answer the damn door.

In my haste to make the ceaseless pounding on the door stop, I hadn’t even bothered to think about who it would be. The concerned look on Beau’s face was enough to completely sober me from last night’s events.

“Hey,” I said, as he burst into the room.

“Where in the hell have you been?” he asked. “I’ve been calling you. I went to the bar last night but you had already left.”

“I... um,” I thought back. I remembered Reid leaving and me on the verge of tears. And... Georgia. “Georgia drove us home and I went to bed,” I explained. “I might have had a little too much to drink.”

“Clearly,” he agreed. “You look terrible.” He walked over and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You should have answered your phone...” he trailed off as his eyes scanned down my face to my chest. It was not really a great time for him to be checking me out. I was not in the mood for a morning romp if that’s what his aim was. “What the f*ck is this?” The angry way he spit his words and squeezed my shoulders was jarring.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, shrugging out of his hold. “What is the matter with you?”

He pointed at the name on the front of the zip up sweatshirt I was wearing. TRAVERS embroidered literally across my chest. “Why are you wearing his shirt?” I saw the blood rush to his face. The vein that ran up the side of his neck throbbing as he stared at me. “Is he here? Is that why you didn’t answer your phone? I swear to God,” he threatened something as he stormed down the hallway to my room, flinging open the door.

“He’s not here,” I yelled, following after him. “This is not what it looks like.”

“It looks like you’re a sleeping with your ex-boyfriend again,” he said, once he was satisfied that my room was empty. “For f*ck’s sake, Nora, the guy’s been back in town for five minutes and you’re already sneaking around with him.”

“I know it looks bad and I probably deserve that but you know me better than that.” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. He was about two seconds from completely flying off the handle and the last thing I wanted was a hole in the drywall. “He gave me this sweatshirt the other night when I was at his house. And, there was no sneaking around.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that you went to his house?”

“I don’t know,” I answered, feeling guilty by omission. Beau was right. I probably should have told him that I’d been talking to Reid. I needed to be honest with him and myself. “I’m just trying to figure out all of these feelings I’ve been having. I’m confused. I know it’s a weak excuse, but it’s the best I can do right now.”

“Did you sleep with him?”

“No. I wouldn’t do that.” I might have last night, but luckily Reid was enough of a gentleman to stop me from doing something I might regret. “We were just talking. I swear.”

“Do you want to?” He asked. I took a beat too long to think about how to answer the question without completely breaking Beau’s heart. “Answer the question, Nora.”

“I don’t know!” I tossed my hands up. “Okay? I don’t know.”

“Fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “I cannot believe that you would just throw this away for him.”

“Am I really throwing anything away? Why are we even together, Beau? Neither of us seems to be ready to move to the next step. We’re both content with this boring life where we meet at the same damn diner for lunch every day. We’re stuck in a rut and you know it.” Honestly, I wondered if our relationship had just been a rut to begin with.

“This is ridiculous,” he huffed. “We were doing just fine until he showed back up.”

“I don’t want just fine, Beau.” Hearing the words come out of my mouth, finally saying out loud what I knew deep down all along was liberating. “I want more. Excitement. Possibility. I want the unknown.”

“Well, good f*cking luck,” he said, brushing past me, eager to get out the door. “Don’t come crawling back to me when he breaks your heart again.”

Once he was out the door and pulling away in his truck, I let myself take a nice, slow deep breath. I’d anticipated feeling sad when and if Beau and I ever broke up, but instead it felt freeing. Like the weight I’d been carrying by not being honest with him the second I started to doubt our relationship was gone.

Clap, Clap, Clap.

“Are you seriously slow clapping me right now?” I asked, knowing that my sister had finally emerged from her bedroom.

“Don’t ruin the moment,” she whispered adding to the dramatics as she entered the living room. I gave her a few more claps before I turned to roll my eye at her. “You feel better, don’t you? Finally free of Beau. I know I feel better.” She laughed, pulling me into a hug.