Now, though, she had to wonder if he’d thought it strange and weird.
Was that why he hadn’t contacted her?
Although he hadn’t said that he would, there had been a flicker of hope in her belly, that he might call or text her.
Then again, if she wanted to, she could’ve called him herself.
Steff groaned and fell back on the cushions she’d scattered on the ground before she’d started her daily sun-worshipping routine.
The old Steff would’ve sent him a cheeky text after he’d followed her home. No, the old Steff wouldn’t have needed Dalton to follow her home. She would’ve been able to do it herself, and she would’ve spent the whole party flirting with Dalton.
Who knows what might have happened if the old Steff still existed?
Could she get her back?
She hadn’t called her therapist, and she should. She was tired of living the way she was, but it was also hard to take that first step. To pick up the phone and call.
Last time she’d gone to therapy, Steff had told her therapist that she would work on being better. Doing better and reclaiming her life. None of those things had been achieved. If anything, all she’d done was climb deeper into the hole.
At least her apartment was neat. After living in a messy apartment, there was no way she was going to continue living that way. She wasn’t OCD about her cleaning, but she gave her apartment a good weekly once over. And that every surface wasn’t cluttered. They weren’t bare and stark, but prior to her being taken, there were times she let magazines or catalogues build up on her side tables and kitchen counter.
Now though, she kept them clear, and the only things on display were intentional. Like the vanilla-scented candle. Or the fake fern in its white pot. They brought her a tiny piece of happiness.
The sun had shifted, and Steff wiggled down so that her toes were still connected to the warm rays. There would only be another half an hour she could do this before the sun moved away from her window.
As she lay back on the cushions, her eyes drifted shut, and a vague memory of her therapist giving her some breathing exercises to use to calm herself should she feel a panic attack approaching, came forward.
This time, instead of ignoring it, she tried it out, even though there was no panic attack on the horizon.
Slowly, her muscles relaxed. Connected more to the warmth of the sun’s rays. Her mind let go of the fear that she lived with constantly, and in its place was the memory of sitting in Teresa’s backyard talking to Dalton.
He’d been so gentle with her.
So caring.
That had to mean something, didn’t it?
The melodic sound of her ringtone burst the bubble of peace she’d been floating in, and it took a couple of seconds to ground herself before she reached for the phone. She never answered numbers she didn’t know, and fully expected to see “No Caller ID” flashing on her screen, instead she saw Dalton’s name.
A flutter of excitement sprung to life, and she quickly accepted the call before it went to voicemail. “Hello.”
“Hi Steff, did I catch you at a bad time?”
There was something about hearing his deep voice right in her ear. She shivered, not in fear, but in awareness. A sensation she never believed she’d feel again, and it scared her a little. But this was Dalton, he wouldn’t hurt her. Of that, she was sure. “No, I was.” She paused, not ready to share her ritual with him. “Reading.”
Her Kindle was close by, but she hadn’t opened it all day.
“Hope the book is good.”
“It’s okay.” The last time she’d opened the book had been the previous evening, when she’d read a couple of pages before putting it down again because she couldn’t focus. If Dalton askedher what it was about, she wouldn’t be able to tell him, because she didn’t remember a thing of what she’d read.
“Right.”
Silence sprouted between them, like it had when they’d been driving home after the party. That silence was warranted though, because they’d needed to focus on driving. Even late at night, LA traffic wasn’t one to be taken lightly. This quiet felt different.
Was he nervous?
No, that didn’t seem possible. Not for a man who did what Dalton did for a living.
