Mister Weston - Page 81

“I know who you are.” She glared at me. “May I help you with something?”

“Is Gillian here?”

“I don’t know a Gillian.” She leaned against the frame. “I’m pretty sure you have the wrong address.”

“I’m pretty sure I don’t. Is she here?”

She shrugged. “I think she’s flying to Los Angeles right now.”

“Her line says she returned from Los Angeles yesterday.”

“Oh, well I guess you’re right,” she said. “Well, I guess she’s still out on a date. You know, those things you never take her on.”

I rolled my eyes. “When will she be back?”

“Tell him never.” Gillian whispered harshly from inside the apartment. “Never.”

I peered through the crack in the door, seeing Gillian standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed. She was shaking her head and wiping her eyes with a Kleenex.

“Never.” Her roommate repeated. “She’ll never be back, Jake. I’ll tell her you stopped by though. You can go now.”

“Did you get my flowers?” I ignored her, knowing damn well Gillian could hear me right now.

“She never got any flowers.” Her roommate stepped back. “Best of luck, Jake.” She slammed the door in my face before I could say anything else.

I started to knock again, but since the walls were so thin, I heard Gillian begin to speak.

“I hate him...” she said. “I fucking hate him.”

“No, you don’t.” Her roommate countered. “But you don’t have to put up with him anymore.”

“I won’t. He just...” She was crying. “I can’t handle no strings attached sex. I should’ve listened to you, Mer. I just—I thought he was starting to fall for me, too.”

“Are you going to spend your next two days off crying about him?”

“No.” Her tone was sharp. “I need to do the same thing I did to get over Ben. I need to go out and find someone else. Maybe not to sleep with, but...Just someone else.”

My blood boiled at the thought of her being with “someone else” and I started to knock again, but I didn’t feel like wasting time. I twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, walking right inside.

“What the fuck?” Her roommate jumped up from the couch. “Don’t make me call the cops, Jake. You’re breaking and entering.”

I ignored her and walked right over to Gillian, stopping dead in my tracks when she recoiled. She didn’t look up at me. She simply stared at the floor with her arms crossed, with her face beet red as tears fell down her face.

“Gillian—”

“No.” She cut me off, still not looking at me. “Say whatever you think you need to say and then leave. Now.”

I sighed, looking over my shoulder to where her roommate was now watching us from the couch. I scanned the room, noticing that despite the drab exterior, they’d managed to make the inside look like it belonged in a completely different apartment. And in two of the corners, in front of massive stacks of piled envelopes, were eight of the flower bouquets I’d sent yesterday.

“Say whatever you think you need to say,” Gillian said under her breath. “And then leave me alone, Jake.”

“Okay.” I adjusted my watch. “I honestly think you’re the most insane and infuriating woman I’ve ever met. I knew from the moment you gave me a tour of my own goddamn apartment that you were a special brand of psycho.”

“Okay, you know what?” She looked up and her eyes met mine. “Don’t say whatever you think you need to say. Just leave.”

“I miss the way you fuck me.”

“Oh, be still my beating heart.” She hissed. “How could I ever be okay with letting you go after hearing that?”

“I figured I’d start with honesty.”

“How about starting with transparency instead?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “Where do you go every three weeks? Why is that we can never meet up on those weekends? And why do you always take your phone calls in another room and change the subject when I ask about it?”

“Gillian...”

“Why is it that every time we’re on the verge of getting closer—every. single. time., you shut me out and act as if I can turn off my feelings as easily as you can?”

I stepped back. I’d seen her angry before, seen her damn near on the edge of lividness, but the look on her face right now was beyond different from that. It was pain.

“Those flowers don’t make up for you being an asshole, Jake.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t care how beautiful they are. And neither does this.” She opened a drawer and pulled out the watch I’d given to her and threw it to me.

“You don’t have to give this back.”

“I want to give it back,” she said harshly. “I want you to give it to a woman who can deal with you treating her heart like a goddamn yo-yo. So, like I said earlier...Say your final words and leave.”

Tags: Whitney G. Romance
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