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Nothing about Whitney and me makes sense. It's fast. Call it love at first sight. Call me a fool, but I don't care. It is what it is, and I don't even want to fight it.
I just want my girl.
I know what she needs, and I'm going to follow my instincts and give it to her.
* * *
It's all I can do to focus and make it through work. We didn't set any special meeting time, but I know Whitney will come to me again tonight just as surely as I know my own name.
This girl and I are tethered together.
She's my life.
My love.
Mysoulmate.
And I'm never letting her go.
And I'm going to show her that and just how much she means to me tonight.
I stay on the job site long after everyone else has left.
I'm waiting, and I'm prepared to wait as long as it takes for her to show up.
As soon as the sun sets, I see her.
She's walking toward me, but she's not alone.
My stomach falls.
I'm only able to calm myself somewhat when I realize the figure walking beside her isn't a man.
It's a woman.
I don't know why Whitney is resisting my claim on her, but if she thought bringing a friend along with her tonight would divert my attention from her, she was wrong.
The friend she has with her is a woman I recognize from my research into Whitney—her best friend, Jessie.
Jessie Cunningham is her name, but everybody calls her Posh, and there's a good reason for that. She's all class, a real rich girl type.
Her father is an influential man with extensive business dealings and a lot of money. He's one of the most prominent men in the city, so it's no surprise that his father is friends with Whitney's.
Naturally, the two girls were thrown together much of their lives, so they grew up as friends.
I don't mind Whitney having a friend. In fact, I'm glad she has one. I'm glad she didn't grow up completely alone and that she has a girlfriend she can count on to be there for her.
What I want to know now, though, is why she brought her friend here.
I know why I'm here.
I'm waiting and watching for Whitney to come to me. I'm here forher.
I thought for sure she knew to come to me tonight even though we didn't put it into words. Our bodies said more than enough last night, and the way I kissed her before I released her from my arms and reluctantly let her flit away from me like a pretty little butterfly can't have left any doubts in her mind that I wanted to see her again.
Maybe I was wrong, though. Maybe Whitney never thought to meet me here again tonight.
My stomach drops again like ten pounds of stones have been thrown into it. Maybe she thinks I was just a one-night stand or one last rebellious act of freedom before she does what dear old dad wants her to do and marries the mayor's son.
