Are you happy now?
“Room service!” someone shouts with a knock at the door. I look out, and Eric is standing guard outside the hotel room door next to a young man with a room service cart.
I pull it open and let them both in. I sign the room tab slip and leave the man a healthy tip as well.
“Thank you,” he says before hustling back out the door.
“Everything okay?” Eric asks once the door clicks behind the room service kid.
“Of course,” I lie with a smile. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know,” he answers as he watches me carefully. “You just seem… off.”
“Thanks.” I laugh. “That’s just what every girl wants to hear.”
“You know what I mean.”
“It’s probably just race nerves,” I reply. “I need some carbs in my body and a good night’s sleep, and everything will be fine tomorrow.”
“You’re sure?”
“Of course.”
Eric sighs and shakes his head, before muttering, “Whatever you say,” and then he heads back to his post in the hall.
I walk over to the table in the room and uncover my supper. I ordered pasta with grilled chicken and broccoli to fill me up before tomorrow’s race. I nibble here and there, but I’m just not hungry. Donavan’s words from earlier keep playing through my head like a broken record.
“Don’t give up on him.”
I sigh. I just don’t know what to do about King. I feel like everything is coming to a head, and I don’t think it’s going to be good. In fact, I have a sinking feeling it’s going to be catastrophic.
“Don’t give up on him.”
I should let him go. I should move on. Focus on my career and let that be my life. Maybe Mom and I will grow old and be spinsters together. That sounds nice. Hugo would eat all of the food, but my life would be full of family and love and golden retrievers with poor table manners. What’s not to like about that?
But is it enough?
“Don’t give up on him.”
Shit, shit, shit.
It’s not. I want him. I want the way that he makes me feel when he smiles and the way he calls me baby when I cry. I want his broody moods and surly disposition. I want the way he makes love and then holds me afterward.
I want to heal his broken heart.
“Don’t give up on him.”
I’m in love with him.
I’m in love with Skylar King, and I have a feeling he gave his heart to a woman named Mae years ago, and when she died, he never got it back. I’m afraid that beautiful man doesn’t have a heart to give me, because it’s already gone. He said he died when she did and just kept moving among the living until it’s his time to join her.
Until me.
He said I made him feel alive, but most of all, I just made himfeel. Whether it’s right or wrong, I make him feel. I’m weak and I’m selfish, and I want him for myself, even though he never stopped loving Mae.
This line of thinking is getting me nowhere. I need to relax and get ready for tomorrow’s race. I cover my dinner back up and move into the bathroom. I twist my long hair on top of my head and turn on the taps in the bathtub. Maybe a hot soak will ease some of the tension. Then again, maybe not.
I strip off my clothes and drop them to the floor, not caring where they fall. Usually, I like my space neat and orderly, but tonight, I just don’t care. There’s way too much weighing on my mind.
