Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103988 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I shoot furtive glances over my shoulder, looking for Connor. I feel nervous about the idea of him following me—though maybe it’d be worse if he didn’t? I’m not sure. I’m glad when it’s my turn to escape into a stall and unroll ten feet of toilet paper as if that will prove just as helpful as a shower and soap and a fresh rope I could wrap around myself. I clean myself off as best as possible and then out at the sink, I wash my hands like I’m scrubbing in for surgery and get a few weird looks. I cool it, turn off the faucet, and only then do I glance up in the mirror.
Holy hell.
I look like I’ve just walked through a tornado and lived to tell the tale. My hair is a messy riot of curls. My lipstick is smeared halfway across my chin. My tears left a trail of mascara down my cheeks.
A laugh sputters out of me as I wet a paper towel and attempt to clean up the damage. It’s really no use, but at least as I walk from the bathroom to the curb outside, I don’t draw too many awkward stares.
Lindsey’s been texting me, but I don’t look at my phone until I’m in a car headed back to the townhouse.
Lindsey: Hello? What’s with the disappearing act lately?
Lindsey: I’ve looked for you everywhere! Are you okay? Did you leave?
Lindsey: Not cool. Text me back. Where are you???
Natalie: I’m sorry for disappearing. Got into it with Connor and needed to escape. I’m headed home. All safe, promise. I’ll make it up to you.
She texts back right away.
Lindsey: Oh no! Sorry you had to leave. I could have come with you.
Natalie: It’s okay. Didn’t want to ruin your night. How’s Logan?
Lindsey: Boring. :/ I ditched him a little while ago. Think I’m going to head home too.
Natalie: Want to get dinner tomorrow? My treat?
Lindsey: Yeah, you can fill me in then.
Back at the townhouse, I unlock the door and flip the light on in the foyer. My high heels come off immediately and I sigh with relief once my bare feet touch the ground. It feels good to be home. The bottom of my dress is gathered in one hand along with my clutch as I walk through the hallway to the great room.
Movement catches my attention and my heart leaps into my throat when I spot Connor sitting on the couch, illuminated only by the dull glow of the light over the kitchen sink.
His tuxedo jacket has been tossed aside. His bowtie hangs limp around his neck. His hair has been mussed up from his hands, and when he turns to look back at me over his shoulder, his angry glare stops me dead in my tracks.
He huffs out a low laugh and turns back around, linking his hands between his spread knees.
I wonder how he beat me home, but then I remember the line to get into the women’s bathroom. It probably wasn’t that hard to leave the fundraiser before me.
I have no idea what I should say to him. His anger is surprising, though I’m not certain it’s aimed at me.
We were together, intimately, not thirty minutes ago. Now, it’s like we’re strangers.
“How’d you get home?” he asks, his voice a hair’s breadth away from rude. “Tell me you didn’t walk.”
“I took a cab.”
He pushes to his feet and grabs his jacket, clasping it roughly in his hands as he rounds the side of the couch.
“Are you upset with me?” I venture.
“I just think a few parting words would have been nice. See you later, Connor. Thanks for the fuck.”
He tries to pass by me, but I step in front of him, blocking his exit.
“Are you kidding?”
He looks down at me with a haughty, closed-off expression. His mouth tips into a sarcastic smile when he replies with, “No, I’m not, actually. I shouldn’t have even bothered putting a chair in front of the door. It only slowed you down.”
I scowl. “What’d you expect me to do? Sit up on that ledge half-naked while you tried to piece together a nice way to let me down? Jesus. You should have seen yourself—you looked absolutely horrified by what we’d just done.”
He shakes his head. “If I looked horrified, it was because of how you looked, like you were this glass doll about to break into a million pieces. Terrified. And then just like that, you left. Ran, in fact.”
“To save face.”
“Right, well…you saved it.” He tries to step around me again, and again, I block him, the tips of my heels pushing against his chest.
His jaw clenches as he looks down at me.
“This is what would have happened if I’d stayed,” I point out, eyes narrowed. “We were going to have to deal with reality no matter what. You can’t do something like that and then shake hands and return to normal life as if nothing happened. I was trying to avoid this.”