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Standing stock-still for another moment before deciding I’m clearly being ridiculous.
I walk back the way I came and lock the door since I didn’t when I slammed it in Wade’s face. Back to my room I realize what I need is a hot shower
I can cry all I want in there, and no one will be the wiser. Plus, it might reduce the redness crying over a broken heart might cause.
Out of habit, I don’t bother with many lights, so turning on the light next to my bed is all I need as I shrug out of my clothes and walk back down the hall to the bathroom. I give the door behind me a half-hearted push. It doesn’t close all the way as I turn on the shower and crank up the hot water.
I step in and sigh under the hot stream of water. Tears leak out of my eyes, and I hang my head and give into the pain of not being enough.
I shouldn’t have let this go on as long as I did. I should have told Wade I wasn’t interested in being his secret side piece. Heaving out a shaky sigh, I mutter, “That’s not fair.”
I know he wasn’t treating me like a side piece. He’s not that guy. But he was keeping us a secret, and that’s enough for my mind to jump all over the place and think all the things—all the crazy, untrue things.
I start washing my hair, then my body. The steam in the bathroom is out of control because I forgot to turn on the fan. Through the water, I hear a creak.
I still.
Standing there, letting the soap rinse off my body, I listen intently. I hear nothing.
Well, I hear nothing but the running water and my heart beating in my ears. Shifting, I slowly pull the shower curtain to the side, peeking out into the bathroom. The stream fills the space, the mirror nearly covered in condensation. When I notice the door’s ajar, my heart pounds even harder. But then I remember that I didn’t close it behind me.
I don’t know why I’m so creeped out. My anger has pretty much subsided at this point, the heaviness of the fight starting to set in. But something just doesn’t feel right.
I turn off the shower, grab my towel, and wrap it around my body. Once I’m out of the shower, I push the door shut. Then I wipe my hand across the mirror, clearing away some of the fog.
I brush my teeth, then towel dry my hair. A burst of cool air hits my skin as I leave the steam behind in the bathroom. I put on a clean pair of undies and matching bra and then walk back into the bathroom. The mirror now clear, I watch myself as I twist my hair into a bun on the top of my head. Normally, I prefer letting it loose to air dry, but I’m not feeling it.
Back in my room, I ruffle through my pj drawer and realize I can’t find my favorite lacy set of sleep shorts and a matching tank. It’s a pretty sexy sleep set. Normally, I live for cotton shorts and tanks, but this set—a splurge I made in Cali when I went shopping with Kelly—I’m kinda obsessed with. I feel sexy in them, and I could use a boost of confidence. Only they aren’t where I put them. I just did laundry the other day, and I folded them and put them away. I stop moving clothes around and think back to the other day.
Where did I put those?
I look around my room, trying to rack my brain. I don’t see them anywhere. Maybe I didn’t put them away, and I’m just confused and losing my ever-loving mind.
I pull out a pair of black capris and put them on instead. A strange feeling washes over me. I can’t put my finger on it, but I know I’m thoroughly out of it.
For the first time ever, I feel like I need to escape my safe haven. I could go to the game room. I know I’d be alone there. But do I want to be alone? If I’m effectively creeping myself out, I don’t. But I know my go-to people are all out for the night, and I refuse to go talk to Wade.
I yank a tee out of my closet and put it on, deciding I’m going back to The Bar. A lemon drop is just what I need. Just a tiny buzz to get me out of my head while being alone but around people.
I’ve been going to The Bar long enough now that I know most of the staff by name, so I while I won’t be around friends, I won’t be amongst only strangers.
After slipping on my shoes and snagging my phone off the nightstand, I leave the light on and leave my room.
For a moment, I have that feeling of being a child and running from a dark room or taking a running leap into your bed so the invisible monsters under it don’t get you. It hits me full force halfway down the hall. I don’t turn off any lights but grab my purse off the table as I leave my apartment. By the time I get to the elevator, I breathe for the first time.
Holy shit, what is wrong with me?
I make good time on my walk back to The Bar, and before I realize it, I’m sliding into an empty seat at the bar top. Todd, the regular weekend bartender, waves and lets me know he’ll be right with me. Calmness washes over me. This is what being a regular feels like.
Picking up a small two-sided drink menu, I study it as if I don’t already know what I’m going to get. There’s a time and place for trying new things, and now is not one of those times.
Todd tosses his towel over his shoulder, leans onto the bar, and grins.
“I swear I already saw you tonight.” He asks.
“Well, it’s been a night, so I’m back.” My voice wobbles a tad.
As most worth-a-shit bartenders, he reads me and overs me a kind smile. “You feeling a lemon drop? It’s on me tonight.”
