Chapter Thirteen
Maggie
I’m alone in Theo’s bed when I wake, wrapped in a blanket. Memories bombard me, and my cheeks catch fire. I’ve been intimate with three different men.
Tanner, intense and passionate, his blue eyes burning into mine as he made me a woman, in every sense of the word.
Noah, tender and selfless, whispering words of love in Spanish as he gifted me with his virginity.
Theo, loving and naughty as he brought me to new heights with his dirty words and even dirtier tongue.
Three extraordinary men who all made me feel safe, nurtured and loved.
Just like I love them. Happiness swells in my stomach and warms my chest from the inside out. Could this be the beginning of something wonderful for all of us? God, I hope so! I want this more than anything, for us to be together, loving and supporting each other.
After a quick shower, I pull on clean jeans and a t-shirt, padding downstairs barefoot. I smile as I hear voices and follow them towards the kitchen.
“…stops here and now. We can’t have her appearing out of nowhere, telling us what to do and how to do it.”
My smile dies, and I come to a shuddering halt as Tanner’s voice reaches me.
“How the fuck did she get through security in the first place? Why the hell are we paying for security that doesn’t keep us secure?” Noah demands.
My blood runs cold. Are they talking about me?
“So, what do we do?” Theo’s voice.
“We confront her. Tell her to leave us alone, once and for all, or we get the cops involved.” Tanner again.
“And the money?” Theo asks.
“She’s not getting a fucking penny. God knows why she thought she could in the first place. She’s not the only one whose childhood was fucked up,” Tanner growls.
My heartbeat swooshes loudly in my ears. Everything tilts around me, and I feel sick to my stomach.
They’re talking about me. Was this all a game to them? Fuck me, make me fall for them, and then toss me to one side? Were they all just faking it? Are they that cruel? I mean nothing to them. They want rid of me.
I clap a hand over my mouth to stifle a sob, turning and heading back upstairs to my room. I scramble around frantically, throwing clothes into my bag and scooping up my purse. My keys are still inside—I just hope my car is where I left it. I haven’t even given it a thought since I got here. It could’ve been towed for all I know.
Dear God, what was I thinking? That three famous, gorgeous men would want me? Me? A nobody?
No, not a nobody! I’m better than this. Stronger. I’m a survivor.
Shoving my feet into my sneakers, I throw my bag over my shoulder and creep back downstairs. I don’t hear voices from the kitchen anymore, so I have no idea where the guys have gone. I creep silently to the front door, opening it and slipping out quietly.
Walking briskly, I head for the elevator, pressing the button for the ground floor. A huge ball of pain is lodged in my chest, a burning ache that no amount of conventional medicine can fix. I feel like an idiot. A stupid, naïve, gullible fool.
The doors slide open into the large foyer, and I spy the security guard who accidentally punched me—was it only three days ago?
I keep my head down as I make my way past the security office, allowing my hair to swing in front of my face. I reach the exit and tug on the door. It doesn’t budge. I pull it again, making it rattle in the quiet of the foyer.
“Excuse me, madam, but all guests need to sign out.”
Ah, shit! I turn to face the security guard as he approaches.
“Oh, it’s you!” he says, his eyes immediately moving to the fading bruise on my cheek.
“Yes, it’s me, um, Brad, was it?” I reply, forcing a cheerfulness I don’t feel.