All Chapters of WRECK ME QUIETLY: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

SAMANTHAI jerked upright, slamming the fridge door shut so hard it rattled the magnets.What the hell was I doing?I’d been standing there… staring. For fifteen minutes. At nothing.The cold air kissed my skin, but I felt hot. Flushed. My lips still tingled.He kissed me. Hard. Then walked out like he didn’t leave me bleeding on the inside.I glanced at the wall clock. 11:37 a.m.“Shit,” I muttered, my heart jumping. “Macey.”I was supposed to pick her up by twelve.I rushed into the bathroom like a madwoman.My heart was racing. My hands were shaking. I didn’t even bother turning on the warm water—I needed cold. I needed to feel something else. Anything else but him.The moment the icy stream hit my skin, I gasped.“Damn it, Mason,” I muttered, scrubbing my body like I could wash him off.But I couldn’t.Not the way his lips claimed mine like a promise.Not the way his hands slid over my skin like he owned it.Not the ache in my chest when the door clicked shut behind him.I rinsed

SAMANTHAThe sound of the water running in the bath was the only thing that filled the room, soft and rhythmic, as I sat on the edge of the tub, Mason's hands now roaming freely over my body.He didn’t say a word. His touch was commanding, as if he knew exactly what he wanted from me—what we both needed.I was still breathing heavily from the moment before, my body flushed with heat, but that wasn’t enough. I needed more of him. I always did.He stood between my legs, his hands slowly trailing up from my thighs, taking his time as though every inch of skin he touched mattered.I closed my eyes, letting my head fall back against the cold marble of the sink, feeling the heat of his hands on me as though it was the only thing grounding me in this moment.“You feel good,” he said, his voice low and dark, thick with desire.I opened my eyes to meet his gaze, searching for something in them, anything that would break this tension between us, but all I saw was hunger.His lips parted, and be

MASONShe was asleep.Breathing soft, cheek pressed into the pillow like she trusted the world not to break her. My world. Fucking hell.I sat up slowly, the sheet falling off my chest. The room was too warm, too quiet. Her perfume still clung to the air—vanilla and sex. And peace. The kind of peace I didn’t deserve.What the fuck was I doing?I swung my legs off the bed, pressing my hands to my face. I felt like I was splitting open.My heart raced, and not in a good way. Not in the way she made it race when she laughed, or when she whispered my name with that tiny, breathless voice.This was different. Ugly. Fast.I stood. Found my shirt on the floor and yanked it on like it had offended me. My jeans followed. Wallet in my back pocket. I glanced at her again—still out cold.God, she looked so soft.I pulled out a stack of bills and dropped them on the dresser. My chest twisted. I just… I didn’t know what else to do.I couldn’t be here when she woke up. I couldn’t let her think this m

SAMANTHAPain.That’s what I woke up to.A dull, pounding headache that throbbed behind my eyes like a cruel reminder of everything I cried out all morning.My skin still felt tight and sore from all the tears, my body heavy like I’d run a marathon through hell.I blinked, eyes puffy, mouth dry. My throat ached.For a moment, I just lay there, wrapped in the silence of Macey’s guest room, trying to breathe without falling apart again.Then… I smelt something weird.Warm. Savory. Comforting.What the hell?I sat up slowly, wincing at the headache’s kick. “No freaking way,” I whispered.That smell… was someone cooking?I rubbed my temples and glanced at the door. I was still in the same gray shorts and wrinkled tee, hair in the same lazy ponytail.“Macey can’t even boil an egg,” I muttered, dragging myself out of bed. “She once caught cereal on fire.”I groaned as my bare feet hit the cold floorWith slow steps, I padded down the hall, following the scent like some sad little ghost.I s

SAMANTHAI applied the lipstick across my bottom lip, slowly as I prepared for the day. I pressed my lips together, then studied myself in the mirror. My face didn’t give anything away, good.I tugged at the neckline of my black top. It dipped just enough. My jeans clung to my hips like they’d been stitched onto me. Gold hoops swayed lightly as I tilted my head and reached for my perfume.A single spritz behind my ear.“If I have to see him today,” I muttered to my reflection, “I won’t let him see me looking depressed.”Keys. Bag. Lipstick in purse. Check.By the time I reached campus, the sun was out, and my sunglasses were on. People stared, some smiled, a few whispered.I walked like I owned the damn place because today, I needed to feel like I did. Even if I was barely holding it together underneath.I had Fashion Retail Management and Luxury Branding first thing. God bless my schedule for not putting me in Liam or Macey’s orbit until noon.Ms. Carson stood in her usual spot at th