Fall (Seaside 4) - Page 26

“Ahh, and the world makes sense.”

“Right.” He looked at his water glass like it held every secret to the universe and then stood. “I’m going to use the restroom, I’ll be right back.”

Why was I the only one who never went to the bathroom on dates?

I pulled out my phone and typed in Jamie’s name.

Me: I’m alive!

Jamie Hudson: Oh good b/c I’ll probably die before I reach thirty. Thanks for that. How’s the date?

Me: It was good until we were interrupted by a girl.

Jamie Hudson: ?

Me: You work in the film industry, you probably have heard of her. Angelica Greene.

Jamie Hudson: RUN!

Me: Are you being dramatic?

Jamie Hudson: FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF (I just censored all my F-bombs, and yes I said that many) RUN!

Me: What? She carries a knife with her?

Jamie Hudson: I’m not being dramatic, and no. She has talons instead of a knife. If your boy knows her? I don’t know, Priscilla. Just be careful. And message me when you’re safely in bed, without a man and without Angelica effing Greene breathing down your neck.

Me: Um okay?

I clicked out of the message and placed my phone on the table. Smith still wasn’t back yet; it had been at least eight minutes.

I took another drink of water and waited.

Fifteen minutes later. Smith returned. Wow. He looked way too happy to be just returning from the bathroom. “Hey um, are you done eating?”

“Sure. Are you okay?”

“Of course!” He laughed. “I just, I know it’s getting kind of late, and thought I should take you home?”

“Okay.” It wasn’t late. It was six-thirty, but I followed him out of the restaurant anyway and didn’t fight it when he paid the bill.

Chapter Seventeen

Jaymeson

I stared at the damn phone and envisioned it crushing in my hand. How the hell did that tool know Angelica? That woman was poison. Pure and simple. Dating her was like playing with the switch of a nuclear bomb. Eventually it was going to go off, eventually you would die. And it would be slow and painful.

I was already halfway to crazy town when I found out that Priscilla got in the damn truck with Smith and let him take her on a date. What the hell was she thinking? Did she even know him that well? What if he was a serial killer? Why didn’t I have a damn tracking device on her?

I should have grabbed her number.

Idiot!

I shot off a quick text to Demetri.

Me: Why the hell is Angelica Green still within a one hundred mile radius of Seaside?

Demetri: Because she’s haunting you? Because life isn’t fair? Because God is seeking revenge? Or maybe it’s just because her rehab only finished a few weeks ago and she’s resting before her next project, it’s filming in Portland.

Me: Oh.

Demetri: She’s changed man, no worries, she’s not going to stalk you then knife you in your sleep. Alec and I have been keeping tabs.

Me: I don’t trust her.

Demetri: How did you even see her?

Me: Rumors. I didn’t actually see her.

Demetri: Stop being so damn paranoid. Are you sleeping well?

Me: Yes, Mom, gotta run.

Demetri: Love you, sweetie.

Me: Sod off.

Demetri: You love me.

I rolled my eyes and threw my phone against the couch again. I should have followed them to the restaurant the minute she messaged me.

Instead, I waited for Smith’s truck to pull up, or any car for that matter. I didn’t care if Pris was riding a bike — I just wanted her safely home.

Thirty minutes went by and nothing.

What? Did they try every dessert on the menu?

Impatient, I started pacing, then finally decided to go outside to, um, check the rose bushes.

That belonged to my neighbor.

It was just starting to get dark as I walked out of my house and jogged next door to the complex. Demetri has the corner lot so I was able to hide in some of the bushes that bordered our properties.

Holy shit. Was I really spending my evening hiding in the bushes like a damn spy?

Headlights appeared.

I ducked, phone still clenched tightly in my hand.

The truck pulled to a stop.

But nobody got out.

Damn it.

I couldn’t see very well — all I could make out was both of their silhouettes. He needed to stay on his side of the truck. I invented an invisible line between them with my mind.

Within two seconds he was leaning over the line.

Where was a meteor when I needed one?

He leaned further.

My hands clenched tighter.

And then the two shadows merged together. I prayed his breath smelled, I prayed he had a very distinct odor that would make Priscilla gag and push him away.

I saw no pushing.

I looked at my watch.

Who kissed in that position for so long?

Finally, seventeen hours later — okay maybe like two minutes later — he pulled back, and the passenger door opened.

What the hell? The prick couldn’t even open her door? Were his legs broken? Manners!

Priscilla waved and then walked slowly toward the condo. Her smile was fake. That much I could tell. I hated that I was rejoicing inside. If she wasn’t happy that meant the kiss was bad, right? Right? Bloody rude smelly American with the manners of a freaking ass.

She unlocked the door and let herself in.

The truck pulled away.

And yet, I was still hiding in the bush.

Something was wrong with that picture.

My phone went off with a message.

Tags: Rachel Van Dyken Seaside Romance
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