Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 52215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52215 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 209(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
I can feel him staring at me. His gaze is boring into me. I try to ignore it and focus on the elevator passing each floor.
Only four more to go until ours.
I have never felt so uncomfortable in my life. I hate every second of the ride.
Three more floors.
I just want out of here. I don’t want to be standing next to him any longer.
Two more floors.
Hurry up, I silently urge. We’re almost there, then I can be away from him.
Just one more floor.
Evading his look, I pull my cardkey out of my purse. As soon as we reach our floor, I step out of the elevator and go to our suite. I shove the key into the slot as fast as I can and open the door. I get inside, dash across to my bedroom, and close it quickly.
I lean against the door feeling so hurt, so angry. He led me up the garden path, with his bullshit about being his. He made a fool of me. Tonight, he actually made me think we could be together. That he might actually be falling for me. If he has such a big problem being with me, he should have never let things get this far. He should never have allowed this to start in the first place. I hear his footsteps move to his bedroom and his door shut.
“Fuck this,” I mutter.
How could he? He led me to believe tonight was an actual date. That he really wanted to be with me, but here we are, further apart than ever. For the first time since we’ve arrived in Thailand, we are sleeping in separate bedrooms. Unsteadily, because I am so devastated, I walk to the bathroom. In the mirror, my eyes looked crazed. Blankly, I remove my makeup and get out of my designer knock-off. I was so in love with it. I had such high hopes when I picked it out to wear tonight. Now I hate it. I’ll never be able to look at it again and not remember tonight’s humiliation and hurt.
I take off my stockings and suspenders then nearly sob with the memory of how he ate me out this evening. God, how stupid I’ve been. I climb into the big bed. The bed I shared with him the night before. I turn my head and I swear I can smell him. His cologne, his skin. It’s too much. I don’t think I can sleep here tonight. I grab a pillow, pull the blanket off, and make my way over to the couch. I’ll sleep here. Far away from any reminders of him.
I punch the pillow a few times and lie my head on it. For an expensive hotel suite, the couch is awful to sleep on. I guess nobody ever thought someone would try to sleep on it. I know it has a pull-out bed, but I’m not going to put the work into getting it pulled out and situated. I’m too mentally exhausted. I know that I won’t be able to sleep tonight.
I think back to the first day he hired me. I remember thinking to myself that I was going to have a hard time keeping my hands off him. For two months, I did just that. Then, I come on this trip with him and almost every single one of my fantasies came true. I was so close to what I thought might be a fairytale romance. Maybe that’s the problem. They are fairytales for a reason. Girls eat them up because they want it so bad, but in reality, there are no prince charmings. Just bosses that use you and throw you to the curb without explanation.
I grab my phone. It’s ten in Bangkok, so it’s nine in the morning in New York. I could call my best friend Emma. I need someone to talk to. She might be sleeping, but maybe she’ll wake up.
I dial her number. It rings and then goes to voicemail. I don’t want to worry her, so I leave a generic sounding message. “Hey, Emma. Just checking in. From Bangkok. I still can’t believe I’m here. Anyways. I’ll try again later. Miss you.”
I hang up the phone. I have no one to talk to. I’m hurt all over again, and I feel even more lonely. I punch the pillow again and try to go to sleep, but it’s impossible. The tears are threatening to take over and drown me.
“No,” I snarl. “I’m not going to cry.”
Because more than anything, I don’t want to cry. Crying is a sign of weakness. I’m just tired and need sleep. Maybe if I can sleep on it, I’ll wake up and won’t have feelings for Luke anymore. Maybe I won’t even remember his name.
A girl can dream, can’t she?
My phone starts vibrating on my lap. I almost forgot I left it there. I pick it up and see that Emma is calling me back.