“I’m going to grab a bite to eat,” I notify Alex.
His gaze doesn’t falter from the photos he is scrutinizing, but he does nod his head, acknowledging he heard me.
“Did you want anything?” I ask politely.
When he grins a full-tooth smile and arches his manicured brow, I sigh and roll my eyes.
“I’ll bring you back a coffee,” I grumble before snatching my satchel out of my bottom desk drawer and rushing out of the building.
A giggle vibrates my lips when I spot a rumpled Harlow leaning against the counter at the bakery. Hearing my laughter, she shakes her head and groans.
"This is all your fault," she whispers, like her voice is too piercing for her hungover head.
“Same time next week?” My tone is crammed with cheekiness.
Her bloodshot eyes dart up to mine. When she notices my smile, a cheeky grin sneaks onto her pale face.
“I guess that will depend on whether you're going to ditch me again.” She raises her brow.
“Sorry,” I apologize.
When I move to the bakery counter she is leaning on, my stomach grumbles furiously. The smell of scrumptious fresh baked goodies filters through my nose. Harlow’s eyes roam my face before her mouth breaks into her famous mischievous grin.
“That’s okay, I would’ve ditched you too if I was going home with who you left with.”
Oh shit. She saw me leaving with Isaac last night? Does that mean Brandon also saw me leaving with him?
“Please don’t tell me he was bad in bed,” she probes when she spots the forlorn expression on my face. “He can’t have devilishly handsome looks and an aura like his and not deliver the goods, it’s a disgrace to mankind.”
A broad grin stretches across my face. This is the reason I need a girlfriend who lives close by. I need someone to help me wade through the confusion muddling my head.
“I couldn’t tell you what his sexual prowess is like,” I stammer.
“Huh,” huffs Harlow, appearing noticeably confused. “I saw the way he was looking at you, Izzy. He was more than ready to take you to his bed.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t sleep in his bed, I just didn’t sleep with him last night,” I retort candidly.
She remains quiet as a mask of shock slips over her face. “Go and sit, I’ll make us a strong brew of coffee, then you can give me all the juicy details.”
Once she joins me at one of the tables in the half-empty bakery, I occupy the next twenty minutes of her time giving her a rundown of everything that happened with Isaac this morning. I also extend my story to include the first time we met.
By the time I've finished relaying every lucid detail, my confusion has intensified.
“First, I must say I knew he would be hung like a donkey.”
A giggle escapes my lips when she uses her hands to fan her overheated, flushed cheeks.
“Second, I can understand him not sleeping with you last night. Having sex with someone who is intoxicated is too rapey in my eyes, but having sex with someone who is hungover is a different story altogether. There was no reason you shouldn’t have been screaming his name at the top of your lungs this morning.”
I have to agree with her. No self-respecting person would sleep with someone who’s intoxicated since they can’t give consent, but the fact Isaac didn’t attemptanythingwith me this morning when I was capable of making rational decisions, makes me feel rejected.
"Maybe he did have a meeting he had to attend, and he knew he wouldn't have enough time to thoroughly knock your socks off?" she suggests, running her hand down my arm in a supportive manner.
“Yeah, maybe,” I reply, although my gut is telling me that isn’t the case.
* * *
After talking to Harlow for another thirty minutes, drinking enough coffee to keep me awake for a week and eating a salad sandwich, I walk back into my workplace with my mind less jumbled than before. Upon entering, I spot Alex sitting at my desk. His dour eyes lift to mine as I apprehensively stroll toward him.
