“I apologized to her,” I say, stopping next to the stairs and looking up.

She glowers down at me. “To Eliza?”

I nod.

“What did she say?”

“She wouldn’t take my call.”

“Oh my God.” She shoves her face into her palm, peeking out through her fingers. “You apologized over voicemail? Please tell me you didn’t.”

“Close enough.” I’m not telling a high schooler that I got my face verbally ripped off by her overprotective friend.

Destiny sighs, gripping the banister. “If this doesn’t work out, promise me you’ll never make a Tinder profile. Like, hire one of those millionaire matchmakers like normal rich guys do...”

“Why?”

“Because it’s over. I love you, but you’re as graceful as a walrus when it comes to dating.” She climbs the rest of the stairs in silence, less angry and more mortified now.

Hello, knife to the gut.

That shit smarts, even coming from my sassy daughter.

I watch my phone all night, waiting for a call, for a text to come through that gives me a chance to offer her a real apology.

And just as my little bee predicted, nothing happens.

I stare at the screen until after three in the morning with my eyes bleary and bloodshot before I drag my sorry ass to bed.

Sleep doesn’t come easy.

Especially when I can smell Eliza.

It’s all in my head, I know.

My sheets were washed since the last time she was here, but I swear they’re still tormenting me with her scent.

Heartache is a cruel visitor. It always clings the most when you desperately want it gone.

It reminds me that I’ve done the unthinkable, turning into a lovestruck fool.

Emphasis on fool when I floated the l-word—by text like a chump—and of course she didn’t return it.

My brain rewards my brooding with a feverish slideshow that tastes like the Hawaiian trade winds and tender lips.

Eliza in my arms.

Her smile in my sunlit eyes.

Her tongue radiating passion in my mouth.

Her legs wrapped around me so tight I’m going to explode.

I wake up in the worst state—hard, angry, and exhausted.

I know she hasn’t called or texted before I bother to look at my phone.

God fucking dammit, I hope she’s at work today.

Because if she’s not, Destiny is right.

It’s over, and then my only option is some high-paid cupid setting me up with another arranged relationship. Because the first one worked out so well.

I sit up and bury my face in my hands, swallowing a groan.

Only six a.m. and I’m already fucking gutted.

Snarling, I punch her contact and call her.

Silence.

Happy Monday, I text. I’d greatly appreciate it if you’re available this afternoon for a quick, informal talk with Gina and myself about our winter drink options. Christmas comes earlier every year.

She doesn’t respond. Hell, reading that back, I wouldn’t either.

“Idiot,” I mutter.

By the time I’m showered and heading into work after letting Destiny off at the aquarium, I’m so tense I wonder if I had a staring contest with a Medusa.

I check my email from the back of the car like always.

There’s no resignation or nastygram from HR about Eliza yet.

Maybe she’s just hanging me out to dry.

Should I intrude on her space? Or will that just upset her more?

Yeah, never mind. If I’m even asking the obvious, it’s probably too late to worry.

Eliza Angelo has had enough of my shit.

I blew it spectacularly, and now I wonder if I’ll ever be whole.

21

Overcaffeinated (Eliza)

“You could just talk to him,” Dakota says, her eyes flashing with amusement.

I’m on her couch, boneless and staring up at the ceiling.

“How will that help again? He’ll either confirm what I already know—which is I’m not good enough for his smug, billionaire face—or he’ll just say what I want to hear.”

“What if it’s number two?” She pours a cup of tea and slides it over.

“Oh, God. You’re making tea for me now? That means it’s really bad.” My jaw hangs open as I lift the drink and listen to her laugh. I couldn’t count how many times I made her coffee and scones back when we were neighbors. “Anyway, you know I’ll just get sucked back in. It’s a vicious cycle. This is Derek all over again—without Derek.”

“He’s not married. I’m pretty sure he’s younger and hotter, too.”

“Bleh. I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. I mean, I’m not his sidepiece, but at least there was an obvious reason why Derek couldn’t commit. He had a wife and a family. I’d almost rather not be good enough for a man because there’s someone else in the picture than just not be good enough for him period.”

“So, what do you want to do?” She smiles wickedly. “FYI, I still have that serving spoon ready for his balls. Or even better, I bet I could get Lincoln to snag another trained raven. How does a whole month of getting pooped on sound? Every time he steps outside, I promise.”

Tags: Nicole Snow Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net