All Chapters of Behind Closed Doors: Nine Forbidden Nights: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

It ’s been one hell of a week. First, my father and I got into a huge fucking fight. He told me he ’s disappointed in me— as usual— and that if I don’t stop frequenting The Exchange, he ’s cutting me off as a partner to our business venture and from the family trust fund.Well happy Valentine ’s Day to you too, Dad, I wanted to tell him.Except it doesn’t even matter. It turns out Iwon’t even be frequenting The Exchange anymore and it has nothing to do with my father.It has everything to do with the second shitty thing that ’s happened this week, or rather, that hasn’t happened. I haven’t been able to get Ivy Pruett out of my head.I was such a fucking idiot to tell her I loved her while fucking her. What the hell is wrong with me?At first, I tried to tell myself I was just caught up in the heat of the moment and meant to say I lovedfucking her, not her.Of course, I don’t love her. I can’t. We justfucking met. And she was my “escort,” to put it nicely. I’m not supposed to fallin

“Don’t worry about it,” Faye tells Nora. “I came here to say I’m quitting. That ’s why I didn’tchange out of my clothes. And I needed to talk to Ivy before I quit.”“You are?” I say. “ So, Rowe did propose? I’m so happy for you!”“No,” Faye says. “But he ’s been dropping hints. I know he will soon. And I decided you’re right. I shouldn’t work here anymore, even if Rowe doesn’t care. I have bigger and better things in life to lookforward to.”I hadn’t actually told her that. I had just told her to be honest with him or quit, or preferably both. But I know she ’s rubbing it into Nora. And I know Faye doesn’t want Nora to know that Rowe still doesn’tknow she works here.So, I just hug her and say “Congratulations on this decision, Faye. I’m so proud of you.”“I was also going to tell you that you should do what you can to lockdown what you think you mighthave with Emory here,” she tells me, returning myhug. “You should chase love and happiness like you’ve encouraged me to do. If you

Sloane“Blaaaaaaaaarf!”I hear the strange noise before I see theobviously intoxicated man who is making it. I gasp and jump out of his way as he ’s lurching in my direction. His hair is sticking up like a mad scientist. His eyes are bloodshot red. He smells like a distillery.His shoulders bump into mine but I manage to move out of his way. Doing so is a major feat thatrequires a combination step/turn like something out of the ballet classes I haven’t taken since I was young. But I pull it off just in time for him to vomit on theground instead of all over my clothes.He falls down and no one bothers to help himup. It looks like he could use a nap so after makingsure that he ’s still alive— although clearly in a drunken stupor— I continue heading the way I was goingbefore he so rudely interrupted.“You guys!” I complain to Orla and Bríd, but they’re too far ahead of me to hear me call out to them.I shake my head, still a bit discombobulated. The last thing I expected to happen

SloaneI take a deep breath. This is it. The moment I confess my embarrassing secret to my friends.“No,” I tell them, letting out a big breath as if I was just blowing up a balloon. “I’ve never even had”sex.“Ooooh,” Bríd says, as if she ’s discovered a rare gem.“ Stop it,” I tell her, feeling stupid. “It ’s really not that uncommon.”“No,” she says, grabbing my hand in apology. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant like, wow, I’m kind of jealous.”“Really?” I ask, looking at her skeptically.Her brown curly hair threatens to come loose from the crazy cinnamon bun- style hairdo propped on top of her head with bobby pins and hair spray. Herdark eyes look sincere.“Really,” she says. “You’re a blank slate. You can have any kind of ‘first time ’ that you want.”“I sure wish I could go back and have my first time over again,” Orla agrees.“Why?” I ask her.“It was with some douchebag jock in the back of my car.”She scrunches up her face in disgust.“As soon as it was over he dr

Sloane“Happy St. Sherwood’s Day,” Orla says, clinking her glass of green beer up against mine and thenBríd ’s.“Happy St. Sherwood’s Day,” we both say.I can’t believe that I’m out and about with them again, this time when it ’s not even legal to drink. But we had gone to the St. Sherwood’s Day parade and then they had produced fake IDs and insisted I come outwith them.They said I’d been holed up in my dorm for far too long, being moody and studying for midterms and that I needed a break. Really, I had been scared todeath about what I saw in Galway.I hadn’t even told them because I didn’t know what to say. I’m afraid they will say I should have called the police or done something to try to stop the man from hurting or even possibly killing the other man. I feared for my life, though, so I’m not going to do anythingthat would further endanger it.I’ve been scouring the Internet for any news of the crime that had occurred but nothing had shown up. Apparently, the area I was in wa