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* * *
Normally all Ineeded to focus on work was plenty of caffeine, a good to-do list, and a bustling café.
Nothing was working today. I’d been editing the same post for almost an hour, and I still had no idea what it was even about, and I wrote it.
It was only when Esme left that I remembered why I’d wanted to get her over and spend the night in the first place: to get back at Wyatt. My entire purpose for going after her was revenge and somehow… I’d completely forgotten until this morning.
Over and over, I replayed moments from the night. Esme, her head thrown back as she came. Esme, smiling at me as if I was the most delicious thing she’d ever tasted. Esme, laughing as we got tangled up in one another.
Esme, Esme, Esme.
She’d obliterated all of my carefully made plans. My beautiful plans, that were nothing in the face of a beautiful girl.
I was fucked, in more ways than one.
There were three options, as far as I was concerned. One, I could ignore Esme and attempt to ghost her in a town so small we didn’t even have a traffic light. Two, I could go see her at the bar tonight and see what happened and keep my plans to myself. Or three, I could come clean, get my revenge, and ruin everything.
It didn’t take me more than a few seconds of thinking to discard the first option. There was no way to pretend that last night didn’t mean anything to me. I wasn’t that good of an actor, that was for sure, and I’d have to come up with a hell of a story for why things had changed since this morning. No, ghosting wasn’t going to work.
The third option… I still cherished the idea of telling Wyatt, in front of everyone, that Esme and I had fucked and I’d made her come and he never would. He’d get that throbby forehead vein, and his face would get red and it would be glorious. And every time I saw him from that moment forward, I would remind him of it, and rub it in his face. For the rest of our lives. I didn’t think either of us was getting out of this town, so chances of seeing each other at least a few times a week were high.
Sweet. It would be so sweet and satisfying. As satisfying as finding a piece of the most delicious cake you didn’t know you had and savoring every bite.
There was only one thing stronger than my desire for that slice of revenge cake, and that was my fear of hurting Esme. What would she think of me? I would never be able to face her again.
Why couldn’t Wyatt have been obsessed with a girl from another town? Someone I could have had a no-strings fling with and never seen again?
No, it had to be Esme.
I’d picked the wrong girl.He’d picked the wrong girl.
If I could go back, I know what I should have done. I should have left her alone. Found some other way to get back at Wyatt. Now, I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross.
There really was only one choice: I was going to forget about Wyatt and Esme was never going to find out what I’d done.
* * *
I didmy best to get through as much work as I could, but it was a relief when there was a tap on my shoulder and then Em appeared in my line of sight and waved. I took out my earbuds and she sat down at the table.
She had her “insurance clothes” on, as she liked to call them. I loved how glamorous she looked, but I also wouldn’t want to have to wear fancy clothes every day. One of the benefits of being a freelancer was that I got to decide exactly what style mood I was in.
“Shouldn’t you be at work?” I asked, and then I realized it was after five.
“Did you lose track of time? I don’t want to be a jerk, but you look like hell.” I probably did. It wasn’t my fault that I hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“I had a late night,” I said, looking down at my computer and pretending to squint at an email.
“Uh huh. That doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Esme Bell spent the night?” I looked up in horror and then shushed her, afraid someone might overhear.
She gave me a puzzled look. “Why are you being weird? I thought that was your whole plan?”
I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes. “It’s complicated.”
“Is it now?” Em crossed her arms and smirked at me. “Complicated how?”
I didn’t answer.
“Paige. Complicated how?” Her eyes narrowed and I knew she knew. See? I couldn’t lie.
