Page 96 of Hate You Up Close

We fall asleep like this. Sated and warm and so fucking happy. I dream of gold-flecked eyes, pillowy lips, whiskey on ice, and the smell of worn leather.

NINETEEN

Roxy

I wake up the next day, squinting against the morning rays shining through the large windows. Once my eyes adjust to the light, I immediately take notice that the sun is too high in the sky.

We needed to be up before sunrise. Our first meeting was supposed to start at 8:00 am.

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Elliot,” I gasp as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest.

I throw the sheets off my body, shooting up to a sitting position to spin around and wake Elliot.

My brows pinch together in confusion as I gaze down at his side of the bed. I ball my fists and bring them to my eyelids in an attempt to rub the sleep away. Once I peel my eyes back open, I still find the same thing. Elliot’s not beside me.

“Elliot?” I call out, swiveling my gaze around the room.

I try to convince myself that he’s taking a shower, hurrying to get ready for the day.

There’s a mirror hanging on the wall directly across from the bathroom, which allows me to see that the door is wide open with the light off. He’s not in there.

If he’s not in the bathroom, then where the hell is he?

My eyes lower to the floor where his suitcase was sitting in front of the dresser. My heart stops when I realize that his luggage is missing, too.

What in the actual hell?

Realization hits me like a truck.

Oh my God.

He left.

He fucking left.

After everything he said last night. After the way he worshiped my body. After he climbed inmybed, scooped me up into a loving embrace, and slept with me in his arms…He left.

He’s gone.

I guess everything about last night was a lie.

He doesn't do relationships. He’s told me this many times. But of course, I’m always the one to give Elliot the benefit of the doubt. But time and time again, he shows his true colors. As much as I want to change him, I’m starting to feel like that would be a twisted fairytale. Simply folklore rather than reality.

I feel so fucking stupid.

I run a shaky hand through my messy hair before reaching for my phone on the nightstand. The time shows that it’s a little past nine. I can’t believe I slept this late.

When I unlock my phone, I see that I have a text message from Elliot. He sent it over an hour ago. Without hesitation, my finger furiously flies across the screen as I swipe open hismessage.

A text, I scoff as I wait for the text to load.All he left me with is a text.What a dick.

Rise and shine. Text me when you wake up.

Wait…what?