Her silence is killing me.
I’m wound the fuck up.
Restraint has never been my strong suit, and the past few days have only exasperated the situation. I’ve given her space to digest our first date. I’ve given her the time to think about my proposal of fake dating. I know it’s all a mask for my true feelings. There’s no amount of pressure from Treena or this fucking lawsuit that will convince me to pretend with Selene, but I know how quick Selene is to put up her walls. She’s placed a rule against herself when it comes to dating, especially after Adam. It’s probably naïve, but I’m hoping if she agrees to fake date me she’ll see me for who I really am and maybe fall for me the way I have for her.
Because living this way, feeling this way, alone, is fucking torture.
I look down at my time on the treadmill: eighty-seven minutes.
Eighty-seven fucking minutes. I’ve officially gone insane.
What’s even more insane is how none of this has done anything to loosen the tension in my body. I haven’t felt this wound up, well… I don’t think ever.
What the hell is wrong with me?
Sweat drips down my face, and my feet ache. Once I hit the ninety-minute mark, I slap my palm against the stop button and jump off. I plant my hands on my hips and pace in a circle, catching my breath.
“Watch the World Burn” by Falling in Reverse blasts through my earbuds. Still pacing, I grip my head in my hands, feeling as if I’m going to explode.
I’ve backed off on my surveillance of Selene over the past few days. I’ve only asked Knox to update me once a day, usuallyat the end, to know she’s made it home safely. I don’t want to tip Selene off to me watching her, and I won’t deny the bit of guilt that is eating away at me. It feels wrong to watch her so closely when she’s still processing and hasn’t officially said she’ll date me.
I try to have faith that she feels the same way I did. First when we kissed, then in the elevator. Her body reacted to me in the way I always hoped it would. I can’t get her heated breaths out of my head. But the longer her silence goes on, the more I wonder if I made all this shit up. Am I imagining things? The mind can’t be trusted.
I learned this fact over the years of my father telling me that the men I saw kill my mother weren’t, in fact, the ones I saw. I’ve been raised to question my own memory. Maybe that’s what I’m doing with Selene now.
Fuuuuuck.
I may just have to check myself into the psych ward at this rate.
Before completely losing my mind all together, I leave the gym and hop into the shower. When I step out, my phone rings, and my heart drops into my stomach. Then it jumps back into its rightful place when I read the name on my screen.
My thumb shakes as I swipe the green button and slap my phone to my ear.
“Selene?”
“Holt.” Selene giggles. “You answered quickly.”
“Of course, I did.” Keeping the phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek, I slip into a fresh pair of lounge shorts. Without pulling my cell away, I manage to scramble into a plain black T-shirt.
The sound of footsteps on her end fills the silence.
“Where are you?” I ask her.
“I’m outside my apartment.” Her voice is light and playful.Different than usual. “My weather app says it’s forty-five degrees, but I’m thinking it could be wrong. I feel fine.”
“You’re just standing outside?” I ask her, pulling the phone from my ear. I put her on speaker and scroll through my messages with Knox.
Knox: Wallflower is home and secure.
“Well, I was inside,” she slurs. “But I wanted fresh air, so I came back outside. I also wanted to tell you something.”
“You’re by yourself?”
“Yep,” she hiccups. “I mean, I haven’t been completely alone. It was girls’ night. Julianna’s driver dropped me off a little while ago.”
“But you’re alone now?”
She giggles again, and I can’t get over how different she sounds. She must have had more to drink than usual.
