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Good Lord. "Are you still at his place?" What if he calls the cops?
"No, I grabbed my shit and took an Uber to the airport. I’m coming to you."
My heartbeat slows before it picks up double time.
"WHAT?" This time I’m screeching into the speaker.
"I'm landing at LAX tomorrow at one. I can't get out of this shithole until tonight and then have to sleep in Chicago. Thankfully, I can get into the lounge." She sighs, exasperated.
"Den, I don't know if that's such a good idea. What if—?" My mind goes haywire with Turner following her here. And I haven’t even considered what George or Nate will do when they discover my best friend in the house.
"Babe, relax. I'm almost six hundred miles from Westbridge. No one followed me here, let alone stuck around for days to watch my cheating boyfriend make an idiot out of me." There is the bitterness I expected, but I appreciate her trying to downplay my anxiety.
"Fine," I concede. The couple of hours with Elle this morning made me miss everyone like crazy. I want to see my best friend.
I give her the address, making her memorize it. I tell her to call me when she lands, and we’ll go from there. It'll also give me time to confess to Nate.
After we hang up,I stare at my screen. Charlie cheated on her. This is...holy shit. I mean, the boys had voiced their suspicions before, but still. He adored Den from day one.
Instinctively, I pull up my most recent calls. Rhys is number three on the list, and before I can talk myself out of it, I tap his name. I know I promised not to contact him, but this morning's events, including Nate leaving not just the state but the country, stirred up a multitude of emotions. The phone rings several times before it goes to voicemail.
"You know the drill. If I wanna talk to you, I'll call back."
Rhys has had this greeting forever, but under the current circumstances, it’s like it's intended for me. Only me. He told Nate he loved me, but he's not answering. Standing in the middle of the kitchen, I spin in a circle, taking in the empty room. What the hell am I doing here? I’ve lost him. What am I— I can't inhale, my lungs have closed up, and I press a fist to my chest. A wheezing sound hits my ears, and I realize it's coming from me. I need air.
My legs give out, and I drop to my knees. Wrapping my arms around my midsection, I lean my forehead to the cool kitchen floor, close my eyes, and start counting—a last attempt to prevent a panic attack. Every nerve ending in my body is charged, and a film of sweat starts building on my neck. As I reach sixty-three, the beeping of the alarm system alerts me to someone entering the back hallway from the garage. "Miss Lilly?" George's voice calls out. Footsteps come closer and then speed up.
"Lilly! What happened?" Panic laces his question.
He’s back early.
Hands clasp my arm and pull me upright until we're face to face. I can barely make out the silhouette of him through my hazy vision. His grip tightens, and he shakes me ever so slightly. "Did you have another migraine? Are you in pain? Talk to me!"
"H-he is n-not answering," I stammer.
Reaching up, I swipe my eyes, and George's frown comes into view. "Who is not answering, Miss Lilly?"
Fresh tears spill over. "Rhys."
His mouth forms an O, but no sound comes out. He gives a curt nod and pulls out his phone. About to dial, I latch onto his wrist. "No!"
When the man in front of me cocks his head in confusion, I take a deep breath. My pulse is slowing, and my rational side takes over. "I got overwhelmed. I shouldn't have called. I'm not supposed to. But Nate was mad at me for leaving the house, and then he left. Den found Charlie cheating. I haven't talked to Rhys in three days because I've been a selfish bitch for months and he’s finally had enough of me. And then I was alone in the house and—"
"Stop!" George emphasizes his command by squeezing my shoulders.
My eyes widen at the word-vomit that just came out of my mouth, and my chin dips down. Covering my face with my palms, I mumble, "I'm a mess, aren't I?"
A chuckle makes me peer through my fingers at my bodyguard.
"I wouldn’t call you a mess, Miss Lilly. You’ve been through a lot in a very short period of time."
I attempt a smile at his words of comfort.
When his mouth pulls up in a smirk, I wrap my arms around his midsection and squeeze. George stiffens for a fraction of a second before he returns the embrace.
"You don't get hugged too often, do you?" I say before it registers that it's more an insult than a compliment.
He doesn't take it that way, though, and I hear a rumbled laugh in his chest. "No, not in a very long time." He holds me tighter for another second before releasing me with a genuine smile. "Thank you, Lilly."
