Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82214 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Divorced. The word sent conflicting feelings through me, but again, at least he wasn’t a cheater. Divorced men could have one-night stands. And she didn’t seem to be upset by it. Still, I hadn’t expected nor thought about this situation happening, so I didn’t want to continue riding it out. I had stepped over so many lines that I didn’t care if I never got my phone back again.
“Hey,” the woman said again, her voice closer. “Come on. Sit with me. I’m sure I just made you feel like crap, so I’m sorry.”
I trudged back up the steps and across the front porch to a seat perpendicular to the one the woman sat on and sat, unable to meet her gaze.
“My name’s Darlene. Christie, I’m really sorry. So, Ryan has your phone?”
I nodded. Why was this happening to me? “We met at an airport.”
She nodded absently for a moment. “Houston? Or Waco? I can’t remember where he goes these days.”
“Houston,” I said. “I was coming to Dallas, and I guess he was returning. We met at the bar . . .” I sighed. “We hit it off, spent a night together because of a canceled flight, then he left the next morning. He took my phone instead of his.”
Darlene giggled again, this time more subdued. I was thankful. “Sounds like Ryan. Always in a hurry and somehow always late too.” She shook her head. “He can’t manage his schedule to save his life. I guess that explains why he didn’t call before showing up here today.”
A ghost of a smile came and went. Boy was she accurate. Of course, she knew him better than I ever would.
She leaned back, her arms extending as she clutched her knees and looked at me through her lashes. “What a player. You know, he was never like that when we first dated.” She scoffed and leaned forward, her hand cupping her chin as her elbow rested on a knee. “It sucks. I wish I could say he wasn’t a lot of things when we first dated, but he’s always been . . . Ryan.”
I looked out at the yard, staring at where the soft glow from the porch light dimmed on the mowed grass. I’d thought this was his house, and I guessed it used to be. So where did he live now? “I guess that explains why he still hasn’t given me my phone.”
“Oh my gosh, yes. Seriously, he sucks at prioritizing … You have to tell me. What happened? How does he have your phone exactly? I mean, you’re here in the middle of the night, so it has to be a good story, right?”
She was awake and alive, a far cry from what she was when I first knocked on her door. I didn’t like talking about my personal life, especially with people I didn’t know and most definitely with someone’s ex, but she seemed genuinely nice, as if we were old friends hanging out late at night. So, I found myself telling her the story about the bar, the hotel, and everything after that. She seemed like a woman who got lost in the idea of the Ryan she had when they first met and started dating. It was funny, too, because in my few moments with him, I got lost in the same idea.
“Why’d you divorce?” My skin felt cold as the words tumbled from my lips. That wasn’t my business. I hated getting into other people’s business, and I’d just asked the most intrusive of questions.
“When it really mattered, he wasn’t the man I needed him to be.”
“Oh?”
She nodded. “He never changed. He was the man I fell in love with. Always. But, I guess, I was changing, and I wanted him to change too. I needed him to grow up. Not everyone does.”
It almost sounded like she still had feelings for him.
Chapter 10
Ryan
I groaned like I was digging myself out of my grave. A zombie come to life. A pounding headache. A churning gut. Everything I killed with shots last night was coming back to life.
What time was it? Through slits for eyes, I glared at the table next to my bed and groaned again. Ten a.m. I had so much shit to do.
With another groan that did nothing for the bile churning my stomach, I rolled over until my feet hit the hard floor and rose steadily until I stretched. Nothing went as planned last night, not that I should have expected it to. I wasn’t a good talker. Christie probably hated me for real now. I’d wanted us to hit it off like we did at the airport. So much for that. I made an ass out of myself.
She was prudish, but in a good way. She knew what she deserved and what she didn’t, and she didn’t give in to the whims of who she thought was a horny asshole.