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His eyes seethe with fury, and his nostrils flare with every breath he takes while staring me down. His face contorts with rage as his jaw tightly clenches. As he speaks, his voice trembles with indignation, his words laced with venom.
“That will never happen,” he threatens with a death glare.
“It just did.”
He takes two steps back, eyes me up and down, sizing me up to see if he can take me. But when he realizes that he can’t, he slams into my shoulder like a little bitch and storms off.
“And that’s how you end a party!” Caleb laughs, now standing beside me. “Now we can go home.”
Home.
Lottie.
Yes, now I can finally go home.
By the time our plane lands at Boston Logan International Airport, I’m a mess.
Lottie hasn’t picked up any of my phone calls since last night. I must have left well over twenty voice messages and still no word from her.
A sick feeling churns my stomach as I start imagining the worst.
Maybe that fucker Cooper got into her head, giving her some kind of flimsy excuse why he was hooking up with two women at last night’s party.
Or maybe she’s second-guessing how she truly feels about me, thinking she should give him a second chance.
No matter the unlikely scenario, right now, they all feel fucking plausible.
Why doesn’t she answer her phone?
Why hasn’t she called me?
Is she too heartbroken because of that asshole to even remember me?
And if so, does that mean she is actually in love with him and not me?
Fuck!
No.
All these unanswered questions torment me as the town car leaves me at my doorstep. I rush inside, leaving my carry-on beside the door, and then I rush to the kitchen and grab a beer out of the fridge. It’s not even noon, and yet the idea of spending the rest of the day getting drunk just so I can silence my tormented mind feels as good a plan as any.
But before I take a swig of my beer, I halt and place the bottle on the kitchen counter.
Her father, Harold, did invite me to spend New Year’s in Cape Cod.
If I leave now, even with the holiday traffic, I’ll probably get there in a couple of hours.
But what if Lottie doesn’t want me there?
What if?
My maddening insecurities are interrupted by my doorbell.
Hmm.
Did I forget something in the car? I mean, it’s not like I’m expecting any company.
My forehead wrinkles as I walk over to the door and open it, only to find Lottie on my doorstep, with two suitcases on each side of her. Snowflakes fall on her raven hair and dark eyelashes, her cheeks pink from the cold, as her blueish-gray eyes pierce my very heart.
