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I felt like shit.
And as much as I wished it weren’t self-imposed, I had no one to blame but myself for the crabby mood and sleepless nights, leading toworsemoods.
All because at some unidentifiable point, some switch in my brain had flipped, and things were – ridiculously, I knew –toogood.
That proverbial “other shoe” was bound to drop at any moment.
Right?
Right?
I was so sure it had me on edge, constantly looking for signs something was wrong, so it wouldn’t catch me by surprise.
Which, of course, wasn’t helping the mood, or the ability to rest.
Or hell—maybethiswas it.
I was so paranoid about something going wrong that I couldn’t just enjoy it anymore, so I was going to worry myself to death.
“Why are you looking so stressed?” Pen whispered from beside me in our seats on the plane, snuggling deeper under the plush blankets we’d been provided. “You’re blowing the vibe.”
I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn’t see it withhersclosed. “Sorry,” I muttered, not bothering to force my tone into anything other than sarcastic and dry.
Even though… Iwaskinda blowing the vibe.
This was supposed to be a good time,especiallyfor Pen. That whole thing on her birthday had been a setback, and even though she’d recovered quickly and still had Tyler wrapped around her finger… I knew she was still struggling.
This trip was supposed to help with that.
Finally, we were making our way to the Heights to get that tattoo she so desperately wanted, along with a needed break from Vegas. As exciting as it was from the perspective of people dropping in to visit for a few days at a time, living there was… probably the same as living anywhere else, honestly.
After a while, you just needed to see something different.
So, we found ourselves on a private flight arranged by Alicia. With our father’s fortune in our hands now, we didn’tneedto borrow the Whitfield jet, but there had been some gentle insistence. I was happy to redistributethatmoney into the charity anyway, and take advantage of the offer, so it all worked out.
Pen was going to get her tattoo, we were going to get to see Tempest, it should’ve been happy times. But instead of relaxing into the butter-soft leather seats and taking a much-needed nap, like Pen, I found myself with my mind reeling, and always coming back to this one particular worry.
Whether Zay would still be there when I got back.
Again, ridiculous.
Probably.
That manlovedme.
But…
He’d been… distant.
Well.
Notdistant, exactly, just always in his head, like he was mentally a million miles away. There was never an issue of him treating me like a bother, or being any less engaged when I had his attention. Something with him was just… off.
And obviously I couldn’t justtalkto him about it—What was I supposed to say?
Hey, you’ve been just as attentive as always, you’re a great boyfriend, you seem to be in a better place, but I don’t like that you have private thoughts that you’re thinking around me sometimes and aren’t telling me everything happening in your head.
That might just drive him not evenfurtheraway.
