Actually, I can’t think of anything worse besides maybe having to date Josh again.
These past few months haven’t been easy, but I’ve loved (almost) every second of my time in Tennessee. I don’t want to leave Meg behind, and maybe it’s crazy, but I don’t want to leave Elliot either.
Elliot.
That’s it! I bet if I promised him food, he’d be willing to help me out.
CHAPTER 28
ELLIOTT
August
Do you know any gymnasts?
No. Why would you ask me that?
No reason
Someone is poundingon my door.
At least I think it’s my door. It could be my neighbor’s.
Whoever it is pounds a little harder.
Okay, that’s too loud. It’s definitely coming from outside my apartment.
I throw my covers aside and leap out of bed. Or at least that was my plan. But my left leg has other ideas and decides to give out. I try to catch myself on the mattress but miss completely and bruise my ass on the floor.
By the time I get to the front door, I’m this close to losing my fucking mind. When I find Loren waiting on the other side with tears in her eyes, my rage evaporates.
“I’m so sorry for waking you this early, but I need help and don’t have anyone else to ask.” She dabs at her eyes with the tissue strangled in her fist.
Her words take way too long to sink in, but when they do, my heart rate skyrockets. “What do you need?” Does this have something to do with her ex? A protective feeling surges in my chest as I glance past her, into the empty hallway bathed in an orange glow.
“Someone hit my car last night, and I don’t have time to pick up my rental before work. But that also means I don’t have a ride to the office. Is there any way you could put on a shirt and bring me downtown?” She clutches her purse to her chest like it’s the only thing keeping her together.
Holy shit. “Are you okay?”
“What?”
“You said someone hit you.”
“Not me. My car. While it was parked.”
That’s something at least. She’s not hurt. She just needs a ride into the city. I glance over my shoulder at the clock on the microwave. At this hour, traffic will be a bitch. Even so, I can’t stand to see those damn tears in her eyes.
Put on a shirt…
“You want me to drive you to work in my T-shirt and underwear?”
Her gaze drops, and her cheeks go all splotchy, like she didn’t realize until right now that I’m standing here in a pair of black boxer briefs.
Loren clears her throat, but her voice still comes out squeaky. “You really need to start putting on clothes before you answer the door.”
She’s right, but from the crazed way she was pounding, I thought the place was on fire. “What can I say? I like watching you drool.”
“I’m not drooling.”
