No Regrets (21 page)

W
ithin seconds of stepping into the bar, I had my sights set. Whenever I picked guys out, the taller ones automatically went to Annie, so I focused my attention on the shorter of the two. He was nice-looking. Nothing to write home about, but not awful. I figured if I had enough to drink, he'd start to look hot and everything out of his mouth would sound brilliant. Beer goggles, right? And beer hearing aids? Something like that.

I couldn't have picked the second guy out of a lineup even if there was only one other person. That's how little I cared what he looked like. Annie didn't complain when I dragged her over to them, so I figured it was okay. Just like I'd hoped, my guy started buying me drinks. He told me his name, but I didn't bother listening as I poured the alcohol down my throat. I swear, if the bar had a beer bong, I would have been first in line.

By the time Liam and Chris walked through the front door, I was already drunk. They pushed their way through the crowd as I swayed on my heels, my eyes focused on Liam. He didn't seem to notice me, but I couldn't look away from him. When a girl I didn't know threw her arms around him, it sent a jolt straight through me. I downed another shot and forced myself to focus on the guy in front of me. He smiled and my head swam. Still, I couldn't get Liam out of my head. He was in my system and I was afraid I wasn't strong enough. Something drastic had to happen or I was going to cave, and a one-night stand seemed like the perfect thing.

The night became a blur. I laughed at everything my target said, responded with the proper flirty comments. Downed the drinks he bought me like a pro. Basically did everything I could to erase Liam from my mind. By the time my guy suggested we head to a club, I was so wound up, it sounded like the best idea I'd ever heard.

Somehow, Annie managed to back out of the whole thing, and I found myself walking down the crowded sidewalks of Charleston by myself with a guy whose name I didn't even know. I wobbled so much on my heels that I took the shoes off after a couple blocks. Later, I could vaguely remember being groped by the guy I'd picked up, then stopping in the middle of the street to shove my tongue down his throat. I swear. Right in the middle of the street. A cab honked at us and I think I screamed at it.

Somehow, we ended up not at a club but at the guy's downtown loft.

I wish I could say that my one-night stand was a liberating experience. That I didn't feel like Julia Roberts in
Pretty Woman
the next morning. Unfortunately, that would be a lie.

What actually happened was that I woke up with a killer headache and a stomach that felt like it had been put through a blender. Not only that, but it took me literally ten minutes to remember where I was and why I wasn't wearing any clothes. Even looking at the naked guy next to me didn't help. He wasn't the least bit familiar in the early morning.

I searched through my foggy memories from the night before and tried desperately to remember what had happened. If we'd in fact had sex. If we had used protection. If I'd enjoyed it. Other than a few fuzzy memories of the walk through downtown, I couldn't recall a thing.

The guy's apartment was disgusting. The sheets smelled like stale alcohol and when I tiptoed to the bathroom I wanted to hurl. I knew single guys weren't typically neat freaks like Ryan, but the bathroom looked like it hadn't been cleaned in about five years. Just the amount of pee on the back of the toilet made me gag.

When I saw my reflection in the mirror, it was like looking at a stranger. There were dark circles under my eyes from my smeared mascara, and my hair was in knots. I stared at myself for a few minutes without blinking, and then the tears came. I had the urge to smash the mirror or scream or throw something. Not exactly how I imagined feeling after accomplishing that big thing on my list. Even the used condom in the trash can didn't make me feel any better. Great, we'd probably used protection; that was good. But the fact that I'd been there at all made me hate myself more than ever.

It was early, but I wanted to get the hell out of that apartment before what's-his-name woke up, so I threw my clothes on, grabbed my shoes and phone, then ran.

 

Annie's bed was still made when I got back to the dorm. The first thing I felt was relief. Thank God no one was around to witness my shame. I jumped in the shower and scrubbed my skin under the scalding water, trying to wash the whole experience away.

When I was dressed and had collected myself a little more, it hit me how weird it was that Annie hadn't slept in her bed. I vaguely remembered her leaving the bar alone, but I wasn't sure what had happened after that. Did she call a cab? Walk back to the dorm? Meet up with someone else?

The hell if I knew.

I called her phone but it went straight to voice mail, so I left a message. Then I waited. By nine o'clock I couldn't sit still. Annie didn't stay out all night. Not like this. There had to be an explanation for it. Someone must have seen her.

Chris was the only person I could think of. I had a dim memory of him being at the bar last night, so I headed to his room. I pounded on the door and waited for him to answer. When he didn't come, I banged harder.

Chris was shirtless and groggy when he finally ripped the door open. “What do you want, Cami?” he growled. “It's Saturday!”

“Have you seen Annie?” I tried to look around him, hoping she'd be hiding in his bed, ashamed that she had caved and slept with Chris, but safe.

He snorted, then leaned against the door. “Not since last night at the bar. We aren't together, remember?”

I gnawed on my bottom lip, trying to come up with a logical explanation. Ryan had taken her home once. After the Christmas party. Maybe she'd run into him and he'd dragged her back to his place to sleep it off. But she hadn't really been drunk, had she? Maybe she was. It was impossible for me to know because I'd been so wasted.

Chris stood up straight, suddenly more alert. “Cami? What's wrong?”

“Annie didn't come back to the dorm and she didn't answer her phone. I know she left the bar alone last night, so I'm not sure what happened to her.”

Chris was worried too. I could see it in his eyes. I knew he really cared about Annie—claimed he was in love with her, even—so it wasn't a surprise.

“Call Ryan and Liam,” he said.

Shit. No way was I calling Liam. “I'll call Ryan, you handle Liam.”

Chris rolled his eyes and headed back into his room. “Let me get my phone.”

The door shut in my face as I pulled up Ryan's info and hit
SEND
. Just like Annie's phone, it went straight to voice mail. Okay, that was annoying. Why did everyone turn their phones off when they slept?

“Ryan, it's Cami. Annie didn't come home last night and I'm worried. Call me. Let me know if you've seen her.”

Chris's door swung open, and he came back out with his cell phone. He also had on a shirt and a pair of flip-flops. “Any luck?”

“Ryan didn't answer.”

Chris nodded and held the phone up to his ear. After a few seconds, he frowned and hit
END
. “Liam's not answering.” He sighed and drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Where else could she be?”

I shrugged because I didn't have a freaking clue. “I don't know any of her other friends.”

“You're so self-involved, Cami,” Chris snapped. “She's your roommate!”

It felt like he'd punched me. He was right. I'd been thinking only about myself for the past few weeks. I knew something was going on with Annie, especially yesterday. She came back from that run looking like her cat had just been run over, and all I could focus on was how she might ruin my plans to go out and get drunk.

It was like Julie all over again.

Chris headed toward the elevator, motioning for me to follow. “Come on. Let's go to the apartment and see if she's there.”

I trotted after him, feeling like I'd failed all over again. At that point, I was pretty sure Annie's body was washed up on some beach. And it was all my fault.

 

Chris had to hit the buzzer three times before Liam finally answered. “What the bloody hell do you want?”

“It's Chris. Let us in.”

Liam swore and the door clicked, and I charged up the stairs without waiting for Chris. The door was cracked when I got there, so I didn't have to knock. For the first time since I ended things with Liam, I wasn't nervous about seeing him. I was too worried about Annie. I'd spent the entire walk over picturing everything that could have gone wrong and it was making me crazy. Well, crazi
er
.

I shoved the door open the rest of the way and charged in. “Is Annie here?”

Liam was in the kitchen making coffee. He glanced my way and his jaw tightened, then he went back to the coffeemaker. “Morning to you, too.”

“Liam!” I snapped, making him look up. “Is Annie here?”

“Not unless she and Ryan are shagging.” His eyes finally focused on me and he took a step closer. “You okay?”

Chris came into the apartment behind me before I could answer. “Is she here?”

“What the hell is going on?” Liam asked.

I ignored them both and headed back to Ryan's room. She wasn't at the apartment or Ryan would be on the couch, but that didn't mean he hadn't seen or talked to her after she left the club. Maybe he had some idea where she could be. If nothing else, he had the number for Annie's friend Jess. She was the only other person I knew Annie spent time with.

Damn. Chris was right about me being too self-involved.

I didn't bother knocking on Ryan's door. He wasn't dating anyone and he wasn't the type of guy who would pick someone up in a bar, so he should have been alone.

I shoved it open and stepped in. “Ryan, Annie never came—”

The words died on my lips when my eyes landed on Annie.

Naked.

In bed with Ryan.

Holy shit!

Annie's face turned bright red and she grabbed the sheet, pulling it up to her chin. Ryan dropped the condom he was holding. A condom!? I couldn't wrap my pickled brain around what the hell was going on, but I knew Annie shouldn't be in my cousin's bed. Naked. And Ryan should
not
have a condom. There were just too many things wrong about the situation.

“Shit,” Ryan said, grabbing for the sheet. He pulled it higher and his face got just as red as Annie's. “What are you doing? Don't you knock? Shut the door!”

I couldn't move. Footsteps pounded down the hall behind me, then Liam was there at my side. He chuckled, which made me want to hit him. There wasn't a funny thing about the situation! Especially not a couple seconds later when Chris headed toward us to see what all the noise was about.

He looked like he was going to throw up when he saw Annie. There were flames in his eyes. I swear, actually flames! It was like something out of a cartoon. He looked back and forth between Ryan and Annie, but neither one said a word. Ryan acted like he was going to get up, but stopped. I wasn't sure if it was to shut the door or talk to Chris, but considering Ryan was naked, it was a good thing he stayed where he was.

Chris turned and stomped down the hall. He went into the bathroom—slamming the door behind him—and it snapped me out of it. I didn't know how the hell I felt about the whole thing or what I was supposed to do, but I knew I needed to get the hell away. I shot Annie a glare, then spun on my heel and headed for the front door.

I was halfway down the stairs when I remembered the morning after the Christmas party. Annie had been in Ryan's bed then too. The blood on the sheets . . . Maybe she hadn't started her period after all. How long had this been going on?

I felt betrayed, but I didn't know why. How many times had I thought Annie and Ryan would be perfect for each other? A lot. Like pretty much every time we'd hung out as a group. She and Chris had never really made sense to me, and Ryan and Jess were a total joke. I liked Annie, loved Ryan. So why the hell was I mad?

And I was. I was so furious my body shook and my cheeks boiled. The air outside was so cold it felt crisp against my skin. I needed to cool off, so I went for a walk down toward the bay. The closer I got, the colder the wind felt. It whipped down the streets, bringing with it the salty chill from the water.

I didn't stop until I reached the pineapple fountain. I took a seat on a cement bench that turned my ass to ice in two seconds flat. My body was one giant goose bump, and even crossing my arms over my chest didn't help.

For more than an hour I stayed there, staring out over the water, trying to figure out what I felt and thought and how I could be mad at Annie for something so stupid. It wasn't until my nose became numb that I realized my anger had nothing to do with Annie. I was mad at myself for overlooking the whole situation. For being so out of control I'd ignored all the signs—and there had been signs. Plenty of them, now that I looked back. But more than that, I was pissed at myself for sleeping with some guy I didn't know, for drinking so much I couldn't even remember it, for allowing my life to turn into a mess when I was supposed to be living with no regrets.

That had been my goal, after all. No regrets. That's what I had really promised Julie. It shouldn't have been about not settling down or about going crazy or making stupid choices I couldn't even remember. It was about not regretting the things I'd done or not done when I got older. The way I'd been acting had caused lots of regrets. And as foolish and irresponsible as I'd been the night before, there could be more in the future. What if I'd slept with this guy and hadn't used a condom? What if I got pregnant? An STD? Ruining my life wasn't keeping my promise to Julie.