Page 42 of Over the Limit

It’s just the newness of it all, Blair.

At least that’s what I tell myself as I get ready for bed. As I check my phone numerous times to see if Rossi’s texted to talk, apologize, fight . . . whatever.

But there’s nothing.

Nothing but me crawling into my bed, snuggling under a comforter that’s mine for the week, and waiting for misery to hit.

Because isn’t this when it normally does? When it’s the middle of the night and the only person who’d pick up if you call is your best friend?

Guess I’m screwed since Skylar is on the opposite side of the world in a different time zone and my next closest friend is Rossi.

But the night wears on.

My mind runs.

My emotions swell.

The anguish never hits, but the need to connect with someone does.

And when I roll over and grab my cell, I call the only person I can think of. The only person I want to call.

“Blair?” his sleep-drugged voice says. “Are you okay?” This time more alert.

Shame washes over me in a way I can’t explain.

“I’m sorry.” My voice breaks as tears well in my eyes. I clear my throat. “I dialed the wrong number.”

“Hey. You sure?”

The kindness in his voice undoes me and I swallow back the sob that threatens. “Yes. I’m sure. I just dialed wrong. Good night.”

I end the call and then clasp a hand over my mouth to stop the sob.

Why does this hurt so much?

“You always come back like a dog to its master.”

Hurt? Nah. I’m wrong.

This is anger.

At Rossi’s words. At his nonchalance. At him casting me aside like I’ve never meant anything to him.

And what does that say about me?

That when I needed someone, I called Lachlan?

But why did I lie to him and tell him my call was an accident?

And why do I want to call him again?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Lachlan

“Well, pulling your head out of your arse and not blaming everybody else would be a good start,” I mutter. The mic of my headset is angled up and away from my mouth but the words are out there nonetheless.

The sudden quiet in the debriefing room means everyone heard it.