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Amelia’s going down.
If she thinks she can drive me into the ground, she’s wrong. I’m taking her with me.
Twenty
Kastle
Kaelyn hasn’t texted me all day.
It’s unsettling.
If this cold shoulder comes after touching her body, then I don’t want to—
Okay. Fine.
That’s a lie.
I wouldn’t give up kissing Kaelyn for anything.
She’s too sweet.
Too soft.
Too precious.
I want more of her, not less.
But I notice.
She’s my best friend and I observe everything about her. I know when she’s happy or sad just by looking at her face. I can tell if she’s annoyed with me by the break in her voice and the twitch of her eyebrow.
I know her better than I know myself.
And right now, I know that’s something’s wrong.
If there’s a problem that involves Kaelyn, it’s my job to fix it. Whatever the hell it is.
She’s my heart.
My best friend.
My responsibility.
I check my phone.
Watch all the messages I sent.
Unread.
There are explanations. She gave them to me this morning when she was sitting on my desk, her skirt hiked to her waist and her legs wrapped around me. Therapy and then a concert, she’d said, her brown eyes bright.
Her parents love music festivals. Those concerts can go on for hours. If she’s enjoying herself, she wouldn’t check her phone. If she’s swaying with the music, dancing with her dad, forgetting all about her worries and her past and her trauma, she wouldn’t check if I texted her.
I’m overthinking.
Kaelyn’s fine and I’m distracted when I should be focusing on the business meeting. Because of the time difference, I’m putting on a suit at three a.m. and discussing profit margins when I should be sleeping.
Despite all attempts at productivity, Kaelyn stubbornly remains at the forefront of my mind.
