Page 107
Story: The Friend Situation
“Good night. Speaking of, which room did you decide on?” he asks, undoing his belt.
I turn. “The sunset room.”
“Good choice. The bed is comfy,” he says as I move across his room. “Know the invitation is always open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, leaving.
My duffel is in the hallway where he left it, and I latch on to the handles. Once inside, I sit on the edge of the bed, staring out the windows.
My mind wanders as my ears ring from the silence. It’s unsettling. I glimpse my reflection in the glass and try to process everything.
I saw Sam again, and I was with Weston.
He owns Obsidian.
I’m shocked, knowing he cleaned up neighborhoods without wanting any credit for it. Just because.
How is it possible that he keeps surprising me? Maybe I shouldn’t keep theWestoncyclopediatitle any longer. There is too much I don’t know about him.
Before I get too lost in my head, I unpack my bag. I carefully remove my work uniforms and spare clothes, tucking my jeans into the tall wooden dresser in the corner. It looks old and hand-carved, stained a caramel color.
On top are a few pictures in frames.
One is a photo of him and Easton—who knows which one is which?—with an older man. Their grandfather. He’s tall with kind blue eyes. Not to mention, he’s handsome as hell. The Calloway gene is strong.
There are others as well, all from his childhood. Seeing toddler him and Easton in suits is adorable. I guess it’s always been a part of their wardrobes.
I empty my pockets, realizing I never turned on my phone. As soon as I boot it up, I’m bombarded with text messages from Lexi.
She sent the last one thirty minutes ago.
Lexi
WTAF?! You both had better be having wild, incredible, amazing sex. OMG. Bet he’s a freak between the sheets.
The last part of the text message has me laughing hard. I cover my mouth, knowing the sound echoed off the high ceiling.
“Fuck,” I whisper, realizing I’m too jumpy.
I know she leaves her phone in Do Not Disturb mode. I always text her at different hours of the night, and she replies when she wakes up.
Right now, I don’t know what to say.
Carlee
I wish. Instead, someone broke into my apartment and stole my laptop.
Lexi
OMFG. Do you need me to come get you? I can be there ASAP. Did they take anything else? Did you call the police?
Question overwhelm is real. I suck in a deep breath and type furiously.
Carlee
I’m at Weston’s.
Her chat bubble immediately pops up.
I turn. “The sunset room.”
“Good choice. The bed is comfy,” he says as I move across his room. “Know the invitation is always open.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, leaving.
My duffel is in the hallway where he left it, and I latch on to the handles. Once inside, I sit on the edge of the bed, staring out the windows.
My mind wanders as my ears ring from the silence. It’s unsettling. I glimpse my reflection in the glass and try to process everything.
I saw Sam again, and I was with Weston.
He owns Obsidian.
I’m shocked, knowing he cleaned up neighborhoods without wanting any credit for it. Just because.
How is it possible that he keeps surprising me? Maybe I shouldn’t keep theWestoncyclopediatitle any longer. There is too much I don’t know about him.
Before I get too lost in my head, I unpack my bag. I carefully remove my work uniforms and spare clothes, tucking my jeans into the tall wooden dresser in the corner. It looks old and hand-carved, stained a caramel color.
On top are a few pictures in frames.
One is a photo of him and Easton—who knows which one is which?—with an older man. Their grandfather. He’s tall with kind blue eyes. Not to mention, he’s handsome as hell. The Calloway gene is strong.
There are others as well, all from his childhood. Seeing toddler him and Easton in suits is adorable. I guess it’s always been a part of their wardrobes.
I empty my pockets, realizing I never turned on my phone. As soon as I boot it up, I’m bombarded with text messages from Lexi.
She sent the last one thirty minutes ago.
Lexi
WTAF?! You both had better be having wild, incredible, amazing sex. OMG. Bet he’s a freak between the sheets.
The last part of the text message has me laughing hard. I cover my mouth, knowing the sound echoed off the high ceiling.
“Fuck,” I whisper, realizing I’m too jumpy.
I know she leaves her phone in Do Not Disturb mode. I always text her at different hours of the night, and she replies when she wakes up.
Right now, I don’t know what to say.
Carlee
I wish. Instead, someone broke into my apartment and stole my laptop.
Lexi
OMFG. Do you need me to come get you? I can be there ASAP. Did they take anything else? Did you call the police?
Question overwhelm is real. I suck in a deep breath and type furiously.
Carlee
I’m at Weston’s.
Her chat bubble immediately pops up.
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