You Just Cant Get Enough | Chapter 35 of 43

Author: Cecily von Ziegesar | Submitted by: Maria Garcia | 2340 Views | Add a Review

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restrooms aren’t just for resting

Owen could hear the thumping DJ music in the next room as he leaned against the wall, finally alone for the first time tonight. He looked around. Judging by the lavender scent and pink- and orchid-colored walls, this was definitely the lounge part of a ladies’ room. Instead of couches, bathtubs filled with pink and purple pillows were set up around the perimeter of the room.

Owen climbed into one of the tubs and relaxed against the plush pillows. He sighed heavily. Girls had it so easy. They had the best bathrooms, their choice of guys.… He took a sip from his half-full flask and caught sight of his reflection in the mirror above the tub. He looked wild-eyed and miserable.

Just then, the door opened, and Kelsey wobbled in on four-inch stilettos, as if bidden by some sort of crossed-wire ESP. Owen rubbed his eyes.

“What are you doing in the ladies’ room? What, is this how you get girls?” she asked, her voice clipped. Behind her, the door slammed shut ominously. Kelsey’s blue eyes were snapping, but she still looked stunningly, achingly beautiful.

“Hey,” Owen replied lamely.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Kelsey hissed. “You know what, I’ll just leave.” She sighed heavily and turned abruptly on her heel.

“No, wait!” Owen cried. Kelsey whirled around, her green dress swirling around her tan knees.

“Why? You know I hate you,” she said simply. She bit her lower lip as if she was going to cry. Owen just sat there, feeling like an idiot. He didn’t know how he could even begin to tell her how much he loved her, how he’d never, ever meant to hurt her, how he didn’t have a choice. “What we did together meant nothing?” Kat continued angrily. “What the hell was that? I told you I had never done that before. And then you treated me like this random…” She paused, as if searching for the right word. “Girl!” she spit out, as if that was the highest insult she could hurl. Owen shook his head helplessly. He hurriedly tried to climb out of the stupid tub, one foot sliding against the slippery marble surface. No matter what, he couldn’t let her leave.

“It’s not like that,” Owen began. He wished he could run his hands through her hair, or calmly rub her back or… something. He thought of Rhys. But suddenly, with Kat in front of him, it was obvious what he had to do.

“Kelsey… Kat… listen, I love you,” he said, his voice cracking. “It wasn’t a one-night thing. I knew I loved you that night, but then I met Rhys and I heard how much he loved you, and I couldn’t do that to him. I needed to give him a chance.” Why had he ever let her go? Now that he said it, it didn’t seem to make any sense at all.

“Yeah, right.” Kelsey shook her head, but her silvery blue eyes seemed uncertain.

“It’s true,” Owen said simply. He stepped out of the tub and over to her. He paused. He wanted to pull her into him. “I’m so, so, so sorry.”

She stepped closer to him, and all of a sudden, it felt like a current of electricity passed between their bodies. She reached out and pulled his hand against her chest. Owen breathed the achingly familiar scent of the apple shampoo she used. She was perfect. It was perfect. He felt her mouth on his and he leaned in, knowing it was wrong. But they would figure that out later. The main thing was, he and Kat were together.

He sat on the edge of one of the pillow-filled bathtubs and pulled her down onto him. He kissed her passionately, urgently. Their hands ran the length of each other’s bodies, as if grasping for what they’d both been missing.

“I think this is a ladies’ room.”

Owen heard the sound of voices outside the door. Who cared? He continued to kiss Kat hungrily, pulling her down into the tub.

“Oh my God.”

Owen heard a guy’s voice. He looked up, gently pushing Kat off of him. Standing frozen by the door were Rhys and Jack.

“Um.” Kelsey scrambled to her feet, slipping and falling back into Owen.

“What the fuck!” Rhys yelled, punching the wall. It made a sickening thud.

“It’s not—” Owen and Kat said at the same time, their voices blending together as they scrambled to their feet. Owen looked wildly from Rhys to Jack. He knew this looked bad. Very bad.

“Fuck you,” Jack spat. She looked at Owen, his face red and his hand on Kelsey’s back. She’d known he still had feelings for Kelsey, whatever had happened between them in the past. It was so obvious, but to see it, right in front of her fucking face … She turned and walked out.

Rhys’s hand was throbbing from where he’d punched the wall, and he wanted to cry. But he was driven by the red-hot rage coursing through his veins. He felt like he was going to explode as in one swift movement he took off his Armani jacket and swung, his fist connecting with Owen’s face.

“Oh God,” Owen said in surprise as he staggered backward, bright red blood spurting from his nose.

“No!” Kelsey yelled. “Rhys, what the fuck?”

Rhys looked at Kelsey through a film of hot, angry tears. The way she said his name was so harsh, like she truly hated him.

“I’m fine.” Owen shook his head. He covered his nose and eyes with his hand, partly because he couldn’t bear to see Rhys’s expression.

“Okay, what’s going on in here?” Two large bouncers catapulted in angrily at the sound of the commotion. Each one immediately grabbed one of the guys, while Kelsey stood helplessly in the middle.

“It was nothing, sir,” Owen said. Blood gushed onto the pink carpet. “Just a dare. We’re leaving anyway.”

“That true?” The beefy bouncer looked at Rhys suspiciously.

“Yes,” he said woodenly, not meeting Owen’s eyes.

“Okay, fine. You kids get out, now.” The bouncer escorted the boys to the elevator, Kelsey trailing behind them.

“I’m sorry,” Owen said dumbly. He couldn’t stand the way Rhys looked right now. It would be easier if his face held only pure, unbridled anger, but Owen could tell he was utterly devastated.

“Don’t talk to me,” Rhys hissed as the elevator made the agonizingly slow descent down. Finally, they reached the lobby.

Kelsey and Owen hurriedly exited, making their way out of the Delancey and into the oppressive heat. Even though it was late September, the night felt like summer. Like the first time they met.

“Are you okay?” Kelsey asked, her hands fluttering toward Owen’s battered nose. Owen nodded. It didn’t hurt that badly. What did hurt was remembering the look on Rhys’s face. Owen closed his eyes to blot out the image and inhaled the vague scent of apples.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Owen tapped his nose experimentally. To his surprise, it felt fine.

“Do you think—maybe—you should come back to my place to make sure everything’s okay?” Kelsey fretted. She looked so sweet and concerned and shy that Owen just wanted to pull her close to him. He glanced up and down the empty street. Suddenly, he realized, he could. They weren’t a secret. Kelsey—Kat—was right in front of him. They didn’t have to hide.

“Okay,” Owen breathed.

Kelsey’s lips spread into a wide grin. Just as quickly, she stopped smiling. “Promise me we’re not bad people?” She looked up pleadingly at him.

Owen shook his head. “No, we’re just… meant to be,” he finished lamely. Across the street, a car alarm went off. The past ten minutes had held more emotional drama than he’d been through in his life, and he honestly didn’t know what he was supposed to do next.

But Kelsey did.

“Let’s go,” she commanded, taking his hand and squeezing it urgently. Owen reacted almost instinctively. He pulled her toward him, not even caring that they were in the middle of the street. Right now, kissing on the corner with blood trickling out of his nose, he actually felt good.

Love is the best painkiller.

Alone in the elevator, Rhys pressed the up button, hard. Like an idiot, he’d reserved a suite for him and Kelsey for the night. He shook his head numbly. Only when the elevator doors slid closed did more tears fall down his cheek.

He walked into the rose petal–strewn suite and looked out on Manhattan, trying to take it all in. All that time, Owen was the other guy? All that time, Owen had taken him for some dumb, trusting sidekick. The joke was on him, but it wasn’t funny at all.

Rhys savagely tore the foil around the Veuve chilling in the corner and popped the cork. It ricocheted against the all-white wall, and rivulets of champagne dripped down the orange label of the bottle. They spewed onto the pristine white goose-down bedspread. He laughed bitterly. He had been a fool. Too trusting, too naïve. But that was all going to change.

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Great book, nicely written and thank you BooksVooks for uploading

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