Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2) - Page 12

11:20 AM

I came to with Justin hovering over me. My eyes focused on his, and for a moment I thought I saw a flash of concern before his stare hardened again. “I never thought you’d take the damsel-in-distress route,” I heard him say as he backed up to the far side of the elevator.

I closed my eyes again to try to get my bearings. Whatever asshole comments he had, coupled with the fact that I was lying on some nasty elevator floor, were the least of my concerns. My biggest problem was that I felt no movement beneath me, meaning I was still stranded in this death trap. I slowly slid myself up until I was sitting against the wall of the elevator. Feeling no less panicked than when I blacked out, I focused on keeping my breathing steady to move my attention from the elevator walls, which still felt as if they would smother me.

“What did she say?” I asked, indicating the call box.

“Just that there’s some kind of power failure and we should sit tight while they call the experts,” he barked out. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at me as he held his phone in the air. “I’m not getting dick for cell service either. I’m going to kick Rob’s ass when we finally get out of here.”

His words slowly registered in my brain. Sit tight? What the hell did that even mean? Sit tight for the next few seconds? A few minutes? Several hours? Seriously, who tells someone to sit tight while they’re trapped with their ex in a small enclosed space hundreds of feet in the air?

“You’re not going to pass out again, are you?” he asked sarcastically as he studied me from across the elevator. “I don’t remember you being such a pansy.”

I ignored his ribbing while I concentrated on my breathing. “Did she guesstimate how long it would take?” I tried to sound unconcerned but knew it was pointless.

“Does it matter? We’re stuck together. Talk about irony at its worst,” he snapped. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’d had something to do with this.”

“Oh yeah, you got me,” I snapped, sitting up straight. “I’ve missed your winning personality so much that Rob and I worked out this whole plan to hijack an elevator so I could be alone with you and tell you how much I missed you, and how I can’t live another day without you, and how I’ve tried to get hold of you for the last two years. Oh wait—I haven’t.” >“Oops, sorry. I lost track of time. Rob and I spent hours talking. He’s so smart and funny. He’s some kind of business major, but he writes this poetry that makes your toes curl,” she gushed as she flopped backward on my mattress, popping the few remaining balloons on her back that still had air in them.

“You don’t say,” I mumbled. I was used to her immediate fascination with something that was new and shiny. I closed the bathroom door behind me, but I could still hear her chattering away like I was in the room.

“So, how did you meet this Rob the Poet character?” I asked once I was back in my bed.

“Bobbing for apples. He tied my hands behind my back,” she sighed happily, pulling the balloons off one at a time.

“Honey, I’d watch who I mentioned that to. You know, the whole bondage thing,” I teased, stifling a yawn.

“Ha, that’s so not funny,” she growled, throwing a balloon at me that missed the mark completely as it fluttered harmlessly toward the floor.

“I try. Now shut off the light. I’m exhausted.”

“Fine, party pooper,” she grumbled before plunging the room into darkness.

I fell asleep to the sound of more deflating balloons and Melissa still chattering on about how fantastic Rob was and how she couldn’t wait for me to meet him. She finally quieted down after I chucked a pillow at her, even though I heard her complaining quietly how it would have been easier to take her costume off if she had a little light.

• • •

“Hurry, Brittni, we’re going to be late,” Melissa demanded, hopping impatiently from one foot to the other while I pulled my favorite loosely woven sweater over my head.

“I thought you said it starts at seven,” I replied, adding the final touches to my appearance.

“It does, but Rob wanted us to get there early so we can support his friend. So get your ass in gear.”

“Fine, but need I remind you I’m the one doing you a favor here? Art shows really aren’t my thing.”

“I know, I know. How about you mention it another million times? But you agreed to go so Rob’s best friend in the world isn’t embarrassed if he doesn’t get a good turnout.”

“So, having me there to witness his misery is a perk, how?” I asked, pulling on my coat.

“Bodies are bodies. Anything that looks like people actually showed is better than nothing.”

“If you say so,” I said gloomily, wishing I’d stood firm on my original answer, which had been a resounding no. Melissa had worn me down over the last few days using every resource in her arsenal from begging to outright bribery. Her final last-ditch attempt was to offer to bring me morning coffee every day for the next month. That finally sealed the deal. What can I say? I’m a coffee whore.

“You at least have to act like you’re having fun or you’ll be getting decaf delivered in the morning,” she said as we made our way across campus huddled together. The brisk November wind was making a good effort at cutting through our jackets.

“You wouldn’t dare,” I gasped.

“I would. Now show me a smile.”

Tags: Tiffany King Woodfalls Girls Romance
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