Page 70 of Seven Rules for Breaking Hearts

“Someone stole my phone.”

“What, seriously?” She grabbed my arm as though to steady me—or steady herself. Because if my life was in someone else’s hands, hers might as well have been, too. Every snarky text, every social media login. “Who would do that?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Declan said.

Jo blinked at him like she was just remembering he was there. “She’s with Peter. They’re taking their parents back to the hotel,” she said after a slight delay. When I grabbed Declan’s hand and turned to leave, Jo made as though to follow along, setting her champagne on a nearby table. “I’ll come with you.”

“No, you’re fine,” I said as I backed away. “Stay. Enjoy the party. Don’t let my problems ruin your night.”

She didn’t look entirely reassured, but she nodded anyway. “I’ll ask around here. See if anyone saw anything.”

Declan and I ran through a series of possible scenarios as we made our way back to the hotel. Maybe we could monitor places like Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace to see if anyone listed it. Maybe someone had pocketed it on accident. Maybe I could wipe my iCloud from the nearest computer, but that wouldn’t solve the problem of everything that was already saved to my phone. We caught up with Autumn and Peter as they were crossing the lobby to head back to the rehearsal dinner. The keys to the golf cart dangled in Peter’s hand.

“What’s going on?” Autumn asked. “Calling it a night already?”

“Did you guys see anybody hanging around the table, after I left?” I asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. “Anything suspicious?”

Peter looked a little dumbfounded, but he shook his head. “Just a couple of the servers,” his sister informed us. “But they were all doing other things. Picking up plates or filling drinks. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Did you see a blond server? She was talking to me right before I got up, wearing a long-sleeved black shirt beneath one of those yellow—”

But Autumn was already shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

We said our goodbyes and they headed back to the party while Declan and I lingered in the lobby, trying to figure out what to do. I was running out of possible leads. I thought about texting Jo to ask whether she’d discovered anything back at the rehearsal dinner, but oh, yeah. I didn’t have a phone.

Giving up, I boarded the elevator and asked Declan to text her for me.

“I don’t have her number,” he reminded me. I recited it from memory—she’d had the same one since our junior year of high school—and he tapped out a quick message to check in. “I’m gonna go back to the restaurant and keep searching, after we get you to your room.”

I shook my head. “Don’t waste your time. Whoever took it obviously took it on purpose. They’re not going to just give it back.”

“Do you have your location turned on? Find My iPhone? Something like that?”

I huffed, but it came out sounding pretty feeble. “I never set it up.” I folded my arms and leaned my back against the handrail, frustrated tears stinging at my eyes. How could I have been so stupid? People had been telling me for years that I was too careless with my phone, yet I’d never bothered to do anything about it. Made excuses for it, even.

“Hey. We’re going to figure this out, all right?” Declan wrapped me in his arms, strong and reassuring, and I stiffened. I didn’t deserve this right now. I’d brought this on myself. I’d grown careless, and look where that had landed me. “You said there’s nothing super important on it.” It wasn’t phrased quite like a question, but I heard the question buried beneath it. He was worried, based on my reaction, that there might be some horrible secret that was going to come to light.

“There’s nothing bad.” As much as I blamed myself for falling into the same old trap—being too gullible—I couldn’t help trusting Declan anyway. I sniffled against his chest. “Just lots of pictures.” My voice came out all pitchy and pathetic. I hated the way I sounded right now. Like a stupid little girl, lost without her security blanket. “Probably a few screenshots. I don’t know. My whole life is—”

“Margo. Listen,” he interrupted, his tone stern. He pulled back far enough to look me in the eye and cupped my face with his hand, swiping a tear away with his thumb. “So long as you’re not sending people death threats or running some money-laundering ring I haven’t heard about, you’ll get through this. Right? You’re a good person. It sucks, but it’s not going to be the end of the world.”

I nodded, shutting my eyes tight. He was right. It was just a phone. Just a stupid little handheld computer that I’d thrown my whole life at for the past three years, but none of that really mattered, because all the things on my phone weren’t me. Not really. They were more of a rough sketch—something that captured a vague likeness of the greater whole but missed all the finer details. A handful of text messages wasn’t my friendship with Jo. And my phone wasn’t my entire life.

I’d be fine.

My eyes were still closed when Declan kissed me. It was a repeat of our first kiss in this same elevator, only it wasn’t fire that threatened to swallow me whole, but that feeling of a wave rushing over me—shocking my senses and calling me out of my stupor. I responded without letting myself stop to overthink it. Parting his lips with my tongue, seeking distraction. The elevator arrived on the fourth floor without a hitch this time, and he walked me over to my room and kissed me again. His hands tangled in my hair as he backed me against the door beneath the brass 402.

“Don’t go back to the restaurant,” I whispered against his lips. “Come to bed with me.”

I didn’t remember finding my keycard or unlocking the door, but in a flash, we were stumbling into the dark room and he was tugging my dress over my head. Moonlight spilled in through the sliding glass door to the balcony. We didn’t bother catching the lights. The back of my knees hit the mattress and I sank into it, my hands fumbling with his belt.

He licked his lips as he watched me ease down his zipper, seeming to wrestle with himself. “You don’t have to do this right now, if you don’t want to.”

Except right now, this was all I wanted—to lose myself in this moment, and to forget all the rest of it. I answered by tugging down the elastic of his boxers and taking him into my mouth. Above me, there was a sharp, surprised inhale, and then his fingers worked their way back into my hair. His breath caught as he watched me.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said, so low that I wasn’t sure he meant me to hear it. He stopped me before he finished, easing me back onto the bed and unhooking my bra so that he could take my nipples into his mouth and suck on them in turns. His fingers hooked my underwear and tugged them off, and then I was pulling him over me.

“Condom,” I whispered.