Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I didn’t want to make assumptions, but finding her ex walking out of the elevator was pretty damning. Especially with no fucking explanation. It wasn’t Safia’s job to tell me any of this. If I hadn’t stumbled into her, I wouldn’t have even known.
I jotted out a text.
You still up? I want to come up and see you.
I pocketed my phone as I stepped into the elevator and pressed the number for her floor. I expected a text by the time I got there. If Safia was just leaving now, she must still be awake.
But the text stayed on Delivered, not Read. Fuck.
I headed down the hall to her apartment. I fumbled the keys out of my pocket. I dropped them once, cursed under my breath, and picked them back up. I flipped through the keys until I found hers.
Then, my phone dinged.
haha why am I not surprised that you’re trying to break our agreement? Go to bed. I’ll see you in the morning!
I had the key to her place in my hand. I could walk right inside and talk to her about seeing Safia. I could figure this all out now. But … she didn’t want to see me.
I frowned. I wasn’t accustomed to this feeling. Much like Whitley, whenever things got complicated, I left. And now, disappointment coursed through me. I could ask her about Safia. I could start an argument with her right before we tied the knot. Or I could trust her.
Safia was gone.
She said I won.
What was I trying to prove by barging into Whitley’s apartment?
Maybe she’d tell me all about it tomorrow.
31
WHITLEY
Today was my wedding day.
And I looked like a drowned rat.
My eyes were red and puffy from the alcohol … and crying. I hadn’t wanted to cry, but when Safia left and the events of the evening came crashing down, I’d crawled into bed and cried into my pillow like it was my own version of therapy. Now I felt sluggish from the lingering effects of drinking.
I forced myself into a shower. The scalding hot water helped dispel my queasiness. I towel-dried, applied light make-up, and hoped I looked like a human.
After all, it was a new day.
A brand-new day that just happened to be my wedding day. Something I had all been but convinced would never happen. And here I was, marrying Gavin King of all people. Maybe by the time I got to the venue and through hair and makeup, I’d figure out what I was going to say to him.
A knock sounded on my door, and anxiety spiked through me. Maybe that was him now. Maybe I’d have to decide sooner rather than later. But when I pulled the door open, Anna English was waiting for me.
“Happy wedding day!” she cried, throwing her arms around me.
I laughed. “What are you doing here?”
“What? You thought I’d leave something up to chance? Of course not. I have a car waiting to take us to Percy Tower. Katherine and Lark are meeting us in our private suite for hair and makeup.”
“Bless you, English.”
She winked at me and then ushered me out of the apartment. Sometimes, it was to my benefit, having a full-time celebrity publicist as a best friend. Champagne waited for us in the car, and we toasted my wedding day as we drove the short distance to the venue.
I stepped out of the car and inside the glossy lobby. This was where Gavin and I had seen each other for the first time after I returned. It felt like a million years ago when I’d been in that outrageous outfit for English’s meeting with her mother-in-law and I’d flirted with Gavin like we hadn’t missed a day instead of three years.
I did a double take as we walked by that same spot because Gavin King happened to be right there. My gorgeous groom in slacks and a button-up, holding two cups of coffee and watching me like a hawk.
“Gavin, you’re not supposed to be here yet!” English groaned. “Didn’t you read the itinerary?”
“Of course I did. That’s how I knew to be standing right here.” He stepped up to me and pressed my favorite coffee into my hand. “Didn’t think you’d survive without this.”
My heart leaped at the gesture. Coffee was how we’d reconnected all those weeks before I was willing to let myself take a chance. Now, here we were, on our wedding day, and I was tongue-tied and uncertain. There were things we still needed to say. So many things. But I had no idea how to get them out.
“How was your night?” he asked, as if seeing straight through my makeup to my puffy eyes.
I shivered at the words. “It was … interesting.”
“So was mine.” He tilted his head, as if expecting me to say more, but I didn’t know what he wanted.