“When was the wedding going to be?”
“I don’t know. We never got that far.” She lets out a dry, bitter laugh. “Engaged for a few months and not a single thing planned.”
“Oh.”
She nods, standing up straighter before she stumbles. I reach to catch her, but she rights herself on the wall. “Do you want to ask me any questions?” I say, watching the floors change like molasses.
“Why did you and your girlfriend break up?”
I shrug. “We grew apart.”
She sighs. “That’s sad.”
I nod. “It happens. She stayed in Calgary, and I wanted to go.”
“Vancouver was your first choice?”
“My only choice, otherwise I would have had to look to Europe or retire.”
“You’re too good to retire,” she snorts derisively. “I’m glad I have you.”
The doors open. “I’m glad I’m with you too,” I say, ignoring the warm, fuzzy feeling that settles into my chest.
She yawns and this time drowsily stumbles withme to our hotel room. She pulls her shoes off and goes digging through her weekend bag for her pajamas. I duck into the bathroom so she can get changed and look into the mirror. My eyeliner is a little smudged, my cheeks are flushed, and my hair isn’t as pristine as it was this evening.
I take the chance to wash my face and brush my teeth, and when I return to the main room, she’s already passed out on the bed, face smushed into the pillows, starfishes out. She’s over the covers, the light from the bathroom highlighting her pink booty shorts rising enough to show a bit of the curve of her backside. With my mouth drying, I quickly get into my pajamas and also crawl into bed. I gingerly move her arm to crawl underneath it. It falls onto my chest with a thud and instantly pulls me closer to her.
Oh.
Oh.
Twenty One
Taylor
Holy fucking shit.Who didn’t close the fucking blinds?There’s a thundering in my temples, and as I reach up to rub them, I realize that I’m curled around a person. Someone comfy who nestles further into me.
Frank?
No, there’s no way.
I was in—I am in Toronto.
Oh. Shit.
Again?
I wince as I open an eye and my breath stops. I’m face to face with Eloise, her breath soft against my skin. And I close my eyes. Maybe it’s all a dream and my heart isn’t in my throat.
Well, something’s in my throat.
I blink open again and, fuck.This is real life.
After what feels like the longest travel day of my life, where I was hungover and trying not to panic every time I looked at Eloise, I’m sipping tonic water at the bar when I see Winnie walk in. My hands aren’t shaking wrapped around the glass, a breath trapped in my ribs, leaking out of me instead of being steady.
Her hair is still an obnoxious pink, which makes it hard for me to not stare at her. Me and every other person in the bar, it seems. She’s always so magnetic, so delightful and fun and charming. She leans into it, and flirts with anything and everything. Her being so free leaves me with a sour taste in my mouth. With her little upturned nose and broad smile for strangers, she catches my eye before fighting through the crowd to sit beside me. She pulls me in for a tight, awkward one-armed hug and orders a ginger beer.
She eyes me up with one blue eye and a raised eyebrow that’s got a notch in it.
