Page 130 of Birthday Girl


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Did she have to work, after all? I check my phone again for texts, but I don’t see anything.

Maybe her sister gave her a ride.

But she would’ve told me if she had to work.

Dialing Jordan, I jog down the stairs as the line rings and turn the television off again.

When the line picks up, a blast of music hits my ear and I flinch, pulling it away just a hair.

“Hey,” she says, and I’m surprised she sounds so…calm.

“Where are you?”

“Out,” she replies. “I’ll be home later.”

“Are you working?”

She laughs, and I hear another woman’s voice and a string of chatter in the background. “Uh, no,” she finally answers.

Then I hear a bellow of what sounds like forty men cheering in the background, and I straighten, trying to figure out what the hell’s going on.

“Jordan, I’m sorry I was late,” I tell her.

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry I was late!” I shout into the phone. “Work had to be done, and I had to stay.”

“Then why didn’t you call?” she replies, her voice growing louder. “You weren’t at work. You were at Red’s, and I don’t wait. Not anymore. I’m out with my friends, and I’m having fun. I’ll be home later.”

And then all the music in my ear and the DJ’s voice in the background falls dead and the line cuts off as she hangs up.

Hangs up on me.

I lower my phone and stare at the ended call. Ok, so she’s mad. I think. She didn’t sound mad, though. Or drunk. She just sounded indifferent, and for some reason, that feels worse. I can deal with anger, but not with a girl who sounds like she’s perfectly content with whatever conclusions she’s drawn. Shit.

Then it occurs to me what the DJ in the background was announcing.

Wet T-shirt Night at The Hook.

My eyes widen. She wouldn’t be that stupid, would she?

Goddammit. What the hell am I supposed to do? Is she out having some fun like she said or is she checkmating me? Is she trying to entice me to come and get her by threatening to do something I won’t like, or do I stay right where I am, call her bluff, and see what happens? This is why women and I don’t get along and my relationships don’t last. I don’t have the head for this bullshit.

But the fact that she went out at all is because of me. If I had come home when I told her I would, she’d be curled up next to me on the couch right now, taunting me with her eyes, her hands, her smell, and that sexy-ass way she arches her back when she stretches.

I sigh and shake my head.

I want her so badly.

Sticking the phone in my pocket, I pull out my keys and head for the door. As soon as I open it, though, I see Cole standing there with his hand out like he was just about to open it.

I halt, my eyebrows shooting up.

“Hey,” he says, his voice unusually pleasant.

I open my mouth to speak but it takes a minute to find my voice. “H—hey,” I stammer, a little shaken at seeing him suddenly. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day. I was even out to a couple of your usual haunts during my lunchbreak. Where the hell have you been?”

“Yeah, I know, sorry.” He walks in and heads for the kitchen. “I had some things to tie up.”

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