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Anna stared down at the phone in her hand, willing it to light up with a call, a Facebook notification, a text—something, anything to tell her that Blaze hadn’t ghosted her. That she hadn’t given her virginity to the man she loved only to be tossed aside to drown in humiliation and shame.
It had been three days since their date. Since the night she’d been thoroughly loved and left satiated beside the man she’d been in love with since she’d peered past a group of bullies and saw him striding toward her, a knight in sweaty gym clothes, come to rescue her.
Anna: Blaze. Seriously. What happened? Where did you go?
She hit send, her mind demanding she ask another question, one that had the potential to hurt more than anything else she could have asked. Her fingers flying across the cell screen, she texted:
Anna: Was I not as good as you’re used to? We’re you disappointed? Please, you can tell me the truth. I just want to know why you’re ignoring me.
Before she thought better of it, she finished the text.
I love you.
And hit send and reread the text chain going back to the morning after….
READ. He’d read it. But he wouldn’t reply. She knew that now, and it made her sick. Her gut twisting with humiliation, fear, anger, and…self-disgust. She knew she was pushing him, that she was turning into the pitiable shrew, hounding him for a response like a one-night stand turned clinger. But they weren’t supposed to be like that. She was supposed to be more to him. He’d claimed her, told her he’d wanted her all along, that she was more, and they would have more. His words promised something she’d been dreaming of since forever. And now…his beautiful words had turned to hideous poison.
She blinked down at her cell once more. Pathetic.
He’d read every single text. Every single one. So she knew he wasn’t missing or dead, that he was alive, well, and actively reading and ignoring her.
It stung. Like a billion hornets set loose in her chest, envenoming her heart until only a pulpy, bloody mess remained.
Limping from her bedroom, her body aching from tossing and turning all night, she headed right for the coffee machine—even though it was nearly 5PM.
She groaned, feeling her hangover like it was a blanket of agony and yuck swaddling her. Three Advil and a bottle of water later, she leaned against the kitchen counter to drag in a breath. That was the last time she started drinking at midnight, especially when she hadn’t eaten anything since that morning.
Thankfully, today was her first day off for the work week. Her last two work days had been tests of her fortitude, patience, stamina, and the ability to smile even though her heart was being torn to shreds. Every time the doors of Happy Jack’s swung open, her chest leapt, her gaze flying to see if he was finally there, if he had finally crawled out from under the rock where he’d been hiding. From her.
But he hadn’t come. He hadn’t been home, either, his apartment quiet and his truck missing from the apartment building parking lot. It was like he’d fallen off the face of the earth. Certainly, she could head over to the main office of Harris Construction and probably snare him there, but what would that make her? When did she become the kind of woman to chase a man down to his place of business?
She had more self-respect than that, though she could admit it had taken a massive hit.
You fell for it. For him. Believing his lines about you being special, about him being yours and your being his. Lies. They were lies. He isn’t the man you thought he was, hoped he was. He will never love you.
Damn that voice to hell. So much truth. Painful, ugly truth. Truth she should have acknowledged before allowing herself to hope and dream and be seduced into bed with Blaze Harris.
Fighting a sob, Anna didn’t notice when the front door opened until Sally came striding through the living room and into the kitchen, her beautiful golden tan face pinched and pale. She couldn’t have been sure, since she was still mentally blurry, but Anna could have sworn there was fear in her friend’s usually bright eyes.
What the hell was going on with Sally?
“You look as bad as I feel,” Anna grunted, not yet ready for company—or deep thoughts. If ever.
Sally scowled, her lips pursing. “Well, at least I’ve left my apartment for more than work and booze,” she remarked sharply, her green-eyed gaze dropping to the empty tequila bottle in the sink.
Anna huffed, immediately smelling her own stench—mouth and ass—and gagged.
“Yeah, that,” Sally said, raking her gaze up and down Anna’s body. From the baggy sweatpants to the oversized t-shirt which had once been owned by he who shall not be named to the stretched-out socks to the nappy nest of nasty on her head, Anna was one big gross mess of a woman.
Sally sighed heavily before scrunching up her nose.
“Go. Take a shower. I’ll make you some eggs and bacon to soak up the last lingering bits of Jose in your belly. Then, you’re going to eat. Then we’re going to talk.”
Anna grunted, rolling her eyes, knowing full well what Sally Mendez wanted to talk about, and there was nothing Anna could do about it short of climbing out the bathroom window. Which wouldn’t happen—because fat ass, tiny window.
Showered, her teeth brushed, her clothes still comfy but now clean, Anna shuffled into the kitchen and sat down at the island where Sally had placed a plate heaping with eggs and bacon. The 16oz mug beside the plate was steaming, and the scent of glorious Arabica hit Anna’s nose. She groaned, reaching for the mug to take a savoring sip.
“Feeling more human now?” Sally asked, her own mug in her hands.
