Hope it was worth it, a bitter voice said in my head, and the pain of it was so sharp, I had to tear my gaze away from E. I stared blindly at the bottom of the beautiful drawing table I was fairly certain Clay had built himself while E shifted, moving to lay on his side next to me.
I was aware he was looking at me. Perhaps he was assessing my mood or hoping I’d turn to him and give a shy smile. But I didn’t move. I couldn’t do anything because my guilt was crushing.
His fingers were warm as they gently grasped my chin, and he pulled my focus back to him. His expression was full of concern, and whatever look I had on my face made his worry deepen.
Now it was his turn to reassure. “Hey, it’s okay.” He slid his palm up and down my arm as if trying to warm me up. “It’s going to be all right, L.”
Displeasure made me press my lips together. How the fuck was this going to be okay? Even though I was in a sexual relationship with both Clay and E, we’d gone behind my partner’s back. I’d effectively cheated.
E raised up onto his elbow and his expression was serious. “This wasn’t your fault—it was mine. I’ll explain what happened, how I took advantage of the situation.”
“What?” What was he talking about?
He struggled to assemble the words. “I was so frustrated, I stopped thinking and I let my emotions take over. All I wanted was you alone, to talk to you.” His voice dipped low. “I wanted to kiss you. I didn’t give a damn about the consequences.”
“Hey, I didn’t either.” His hand on my arm had slowed to a stop, so I set mine on top of his. We’d done this together, and the blame was at least as much mine as it was his. “What are we going to do?”
His answer was immediate. “We tell him.”
I swallowed a breath and nodded, but my head was a mess. I loved what the three of us had. Was there any chance I hadn’t fucked it up beyond repair? The way E looked at me now, I felt lost. Now that I’d slept with him outside of my arrangement with Clay, what did he think? Would he expect me to leave my partner and become his?
My voice wavered. “How do you think he’ll react?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will he end the arrangement?” Panic made my heart flutter. “What if I never see you again?”
“That won’t happen.” His brow furrowed. “Clay’s a good guy. Yeah, he’ll be pissed, and he’s got every right to be, but . . .” He sighed. “Look, I’m new to this and all, and I’m not trying to shift blame, but his rules set us up for failure.”
Had they? And what did he mean?
“New to this kind of,” I wasn’t sure how to define it, “group thing?” I found a better word. “Dynamic?”
His gaze slipped away. Even without Clay, I think we both still felt him there, and it was obvious E was hesitant about what to reveal.
“Yeah, but also, like everything.” His attention snapped back to me, as if tired of fighting it. “I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve gone to the club a few times and played before. So, I’ve done some scenes, but this?” He tangled his fingers with mine. The air in the room slowed, making dust motes suspend in place. Like the whole world crawled to a stop. “You’re the first person I’ve done this with more than once. You and Clay,” he said, gravity filling his voice, “you two are my first partners.”
“Oh, my God. Really?” Warmth rolled through me, but his statement was hard to believe. “But you’re so good at it.”
His smile was temporary. “Thanks, but if that were true, I wouldn’t have stayed. I would have had some fucking control.” He rolled onto his back and jerked up his pants, his hands doing up his fly and there was tension all through the muscles of his chest and arms. “I thought I had more self-control, but if this was a test, I failed.”
“Yeah? Well, I did too.” It was sweet, but also kind of annoying how he once again wanted to take all the blame.
He shifted back onto his side, put his arm around me, and pulled me up against his chest, where it was warm and distracting. “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “I’ll explain what happened and apologize.”
“Um, I think you mean we’ll talk to him. We made this huge mistake together, so we can apologize together.”
It was a careless word to go along with all my thoughtlessness, and when he stiffened, I felt even worse. The atmosphere in the room plummeted twenty degrees. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yeah, good point.” He did little to cover the hurt in his voice and he ignored my attempt to correct myself because the damage was done. His arm slid away, and he sat up, his unfocused gaze not meeting mine. “If we tell him it was a one-time thing and won’t happen again, maybe he can look past it, and then everything can go back to how it was.”