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Wild Collision (Us 4)

Page 147

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“Self-imposed designated driver,” I laugh. “I’m not much of a drinker. Or a partier. Or … honestly I’d rather be home sleeping right now.”

He chuckles. “You and me both. That was my friend who dragged yours away. Apparently they both thought to get us out and distract us from our broken hearts—only it’s them who is having fun.”

The bartender hands me water and I drink down half of it, hoping to get rid of the liquid fire taste of the shot.

I’ve probably been sitting there an hour, maybe longer, chatting with Jake when he says, “Do you want to dance?” I make a face. “Just dance,” he adds. “That’s not code for anything else.” He cracks a grin. “What do you say?”

I mull it over and nod. “Yeah.”

He stands and I take his hand letting him pull me into the crowd.

It’s a fast song, but I do my best to keep up with the beat, and honestly … it feels pretty damn good to let loose, to not think about Hollis, or how much I hurt, to just be.

* * *

“In you go.” I practically shove a drunk Kira into the passenger seat of her own car. I swear when she’s drunk she weighs three times her normal weight.

Across the lot Jake is doing the same with his friend. He waves and I raise my hand.

He offered me his number.

I declined.

The last thing I need right now is a rebound. I need to focus on myself.

When I slide in the driver’s seat Kira is already passed out snoring. I turn the radio up and crack the window so cold air blows in to keep me awake during the drive.

There’s little to no traffic so it doesn’t take nearly as long as usual to get from the city to home. I drop her off at her apartment, basically dragging her up the stairs.

I leave a note, letting her know I’m driving her car to my place since I don’t feel comfortable walking the streets this late and that I’ll bring it back tomorrow and we can go pick up my car and get breakfast.

Parking in front of my apartment building I turn the car off but sit there for a few minutes, looking at the snow covering the ground, now dirty and gross, and the streetlights which normally look magical to me now seem to be just something in the way.

I hate being so mopey. It’s not me. I always bounced back quickly from my previous relationships because I didn’t love them—yeah those relationships made me weary of pursuing others, but I didn’t feel this deep yearning ache in the center of my chest like I do now.

Feeling like this … it sucks. I want to rant and rage, but I know it’ll do no good. No matter how much I cry or scream it won’t bring Hollis back.

I chose him.

I chose him over my father, over my family, but in the end he didn’t choose me.

The car grows icy since I turned the engine off, no heat blowing in my face. With reluctance I get out and head inside.

I open the door and startle at the golden light flickering inside.

Puzzled, I stare at all the candles lit throughout the space—on the counters, on the floor, on shelves, the c

offee table, and even the windowsill. They’re everywhere.

Without turning around I close the door behind me. I don’t lock it, though I don’t imagine many robbers break in and light candles.

“Hello?” I call out.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

I gasp as Hollis steps out of the shadows. He looks exactly as I remember, why I expect him to have changed in a week is beyond me—maybe it’s because I feel so different.

“You’re … you’re here. In Winchester. In my apartment. I thought you were in L.A.?”



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