#Chapter168
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MEGAN
I WOKE up to an unfamiliar room with the feeling of the hangover of being roofied. I wished I could pluck the thought off of what happened last night. Ignoring the tightness in my throat, I got up from the bed.
This wasn’t the first time I’d hurt anyway. I was aware that we were utterly wrong for each other. If I made it through it the last time, hell, I definitely would the second time.
I had to put a stop to whatever short fling I had with Forrest before it got deeper. That was the smartest thing to do. How twisted was that? Because I knew I was lying. It still freaking hurt.
A soft knock and Mom’s voice calling my name behind the door interrupted me from my deep musing.
/"Come in./" I was still sitting on the bed when the door swung open.
