Page 42 of Tempt (Peachwood Falls #1)

M egan

I roll over and look at the clock—two o’clock on the dot.

My chest is heavy, and my stomach is sour.

I managed not to cry until the house got quiet, and I was sure no one was coming by my room.

Kennedy texted me good night and thanked me for helping her today.

Chase, on the other hand, didn’t acknowledge my existence.

I did hear him talking to Kennedy for a long time.

If nothing else, he’s a great father.

I flip on the bedside table light and sit in bed. I’m afraid to go downstairs to get a snack. The last thing I want is to run into Chase. I have no idea why he grew so cold to me tonight, and I have even less of an idea about what to say to him.

How did he go from practically asking me to move in, to telling me I was just a piece of ass?

“Because maybe I see things for the way they really are. Maybe reality just hit, and I’m thinking better without you sitting on my lap.”

“Oh, fuck off,” I say, replaying his words for the hundredth time.

I grab my phone and find Calista’s name.

Me: Are you awake?

Calista: Yup. What are you doing awake?

Me: Well, me and Mr. Marshall had a falling out tonight.

Calista: Wanna call me?

Me: No. I’m afraid he’ll hear me talking.

Calista: Got ya.

I get off the bed and wander over to the window. I remember the first time I was here. The excitement of it, the wariness. How nervous I was, yet not—because Chase was … Chase.

Calista: What happened?

Me: Kennedy got in trouble at school. Chase came home from a work trip, found out, and got all pissy with me for not telling him until he got home. Then he started saying shit like I didn’t sign up for this and there’s nowhere for me to work here—like I would want to stay here and mooch off him.

Calista: Okay, I didn’t know you guys were serious.

Me: We weren’t. I mean, we talked about things. Sort of. You know …

Calista: So he was into it, and you were backpedaling out of a healthy relationship?

Me: Sometimes I hate you.

Calista:

I sit on the edge of the bed and sigh.

Calista: So what’s the status? Are you going home?

Me: I don’t know. We left things up in the air.

Calista: REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE.

Me: Don’t shout. It’s late.

Calista: Very funny. But I mean it. Remember who you are.

Me: What’s that supposed to mean?

Calista: It means that you are beautiful and intelligent, and kind. And if he wants to treat you like anything other than that, fuck him.

I chuckle. I did that. Hence, my predicament.

Calista: You like him, huh?

I pause, hoping I can honestly tell her that I don’t like him as much as I thought I did. Finally, I frown.

Me: Yeah. I thought I was falling for him. I actually thought that maybe this whole thing was some kind of kismet. That the universe was paying me back for some good deed I did in another life. But I was wrong. He turned out to be another frog and not Prince Charming.

Calista: That’s what men do. They trick you. And here’s another thing men do—they say shit they don’t mean. Don’t be surprised if he wakes up and regrets it all.

Me: I say shit I don’t mean. I understand how that works. But he basically said I don’t fit here, and that was … cold.

Calista: Let’s give him the benefit of the doubt. You thought he was a good guy up until now. You’re a good judge of character. Maybe he had a bad day and spouted off some shit. Or maybe he got scared. He’s not as badass as we are.

Me:

Calista: What are your plans? Are you sticking around there or going home?

I’m not sure.

My gaze drifts through the window and into the dark sky. I consider my options. None of them feel right.

Me: I’m going to see what tomorrow brings.

Calista: Remember that you’re Megan Kramer. Don’t take any shit. I don’t care how good his cock is.

Me:

Calista:

Me: I’ll keep you posted. Good night.

Calista: Love you. Night.

I put my phone back on the nightstand, cut the light, and start counting sheep.