Doesn’t Slayer understand?
My career is very important to me. I’ve prepared for it since I was a kid. To cut Carlos off when he could be a helpful stepping stone seems crazy. Why doesn’t Slayer understand?
I spot Oscar the turtle on the floor and scoop him up to take to bed with me. He’s not Slayer, but he’ll have to do.
I pull back the covers and slide in.
I’m about to close my eyes when I hear an odd sound. I look down from the bed and realize it’s Toto, feeling forgotten.
“Come on up, pal. Join the party,” I say, patting the mattress.
In one athletic leap, he hops up and snuggles in close. It feels so good, his warmth against my shoulder, his body pressed against mine.
“You’re loyal,” I whisper, fingers grazing his fur. “You’d never ghost someone after a perfect afternoon.”
He yawns but makes no sound.
I stare at the ceiling for a long time, waiting for the click of Slayer’s key in the door. Listening for his deep, sexy voice. His steps in the hallway—any sign that I haven’t been crazy to believe what we had this afternoon was real.
But it doesn’t come.
Perhaps he got pulled into interviews, industry handshakes, late-night promoter dinners. Maybe even a wild party.
But no.
His debut is tomorrow. He wouldn’t dare rave all night. There’s too much at stake for him.
Tomorrow’s debut is everything he’s lived for. Worked for.
He should be sleeping. Getting some rest.
And if he’s not in his own bed, does that mean he’s with Valentina?
I drift into a daze, but then like a nightmare, I remember how he pulled away from me after our argument. How he stalked off, leaving me alone.
My phone lies silent on the pillow beside me. No message.
So this is it.
Toto turns in his sleep, letting out a small sigh. His tiny body rises and falls.
I remind myself that everything looks brighter in the morning. Maybe I’ll wake up with flowers from Slayer and a credible explanation.
I cuddle Oscar to my chest and dream it will be so.
CHAPTER 45
BIX
Iwake after a restless night’s sleep. The once-crisp sheets are twisted around my torso. Oscar the turtle lies squashed beneath my head.
And Toto’s snuggled so close I can’t extricate myself without waking him. But he can’t be bothered to get up.
He yawns and rolls over as I take a deep breath and open my bedroom door.
The living area is pristine, untouched since last night.
After another breath, I press my ear against Slayer’s bedroom door.
