I know, J. And I appreciate it. But don’t worry. Anyway, Webb should be here any minute. Wish me luck!
Once I hear the little swoosh of the text going through, I set my phone down on the couch cushion and take a steadying breath.
There’s no reason to be nervous,I tell myself firmly. This is going to be a fun evening. I’ll spend time with Webb. I’ll get to see him with his friends, which tells a lot about a guy—is he the jokester of the group? Does he turn into an asshole? Will he ignore me in favor of hanging out with his buddies, or stick close to make sure I’m comfortable?
I think I know the answer to all of those questions. But I’m not sure.
My phone buzzes with another text, so I snatch it up, assuming it’s from Jaz. Or possibly Webb letting me know he’s almost here.
But stupid me, caught up in my thoughts about my imminent date, I don’t even consider it could be someone else instead. No, I just pick up the phone and look at the message.
So stupid.
Even though the attached image is small, I can still recognize it.
Orwho, more aptly, because it’s another photo of me.
Like the time on the street, instinct tells me to ignore it—to swipe the text aside to deal with later. But then another one arrives. And another.
Heart pounding, stomach churning, I open the first one to find another video still of myself in my old office. Not changing this time, but I’m bending over to put something in my file cabinet, so my ass is right there for the camera to record.
The next text contains the same photo, only zoomed in this time.
And then the third is a close-up on my face as I must have been turning around. I’m smiling to myself, looking so blithely happy it makes my eyes burn with tears.
While I’m staring at the last of the photos, my phone buzzes again, startling me so badly it skitters out of my hands to land on the floor.
The same questions I’ve asked myself countless times repeat.
Why won’t he leave me alone?
I’m already gone. Why won’t he move on?
But I know why, don’t I?
I just don’t know how to get him to stop.
My phone jitters across the carpeted floor as another text comes in. I stare at it like it’s a poisonous rattlesnake about to strike, debating whether to kick it just to get the damn thing away from me.
Then a quick series of knocks sounds at my door.
My nerves are strung so tight, I yelp in surprise.
A moment later, Webb calls out, “Noelle? Are you okay?”
I take a deep breath, then blow it out slowly, taking a few seconds to compose myself. Then I pitch my voice into what I hope sounds like a cheerful tone as I reply, “Yup! Just fine. I’ll be right there!”
Before heading to the door, I swipe my phone from the floor and power it off. As I pass the TV, I take a quick glance at my reflection, hoping I don’t look as flustered as I feel.
Outwardly, I still look just as I did before. But inside, I’m a mess. All the buzzy excitement I felt before is gone, leaving me feeling cold and empty. My nose prickles, and I swallow against the threatening tears.
Once I reach the door, I take a few more steadying breaths. Then I paste on a smile and open it. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”
Webb’s gaze skims across me, his eyes flaring in appreciation as he takes in my dress. Then his focus moves to my face, and his smile fades. “Noelle?” He touches my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look…”
“Are you saying I look bad?” I ask lightly.
His face jerks with shock. “No. Shit, no. Of course not. You look incredible, Noelle.” His hand brushes my hair. “You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen. And this dress, and… No. Youdefinitelydon’t look bad. At all.”
