I have her number but it’s late and I don’t want to disturb her. Fuck that. I dial and it goes straight to voicemail, the generic robotic kind, not her voice. I’m not leaving a message, I need to talk to her. What caused this?
Maybe she realized this is all wrong for her, that whatever we’ve had going on is not what she wants. I’m not the kind to let things fester, if there is an issue I want to know what it is and if I can fix it, I will.
It’s late but Blaze still answers the call.
“Can you track a phone for me?”
“Who’s?” he asks with a yawn.
I don’t even feel bad I woke him up. He takes the number and says to give him five. When he calls back with a name and address, I frown but thank him and hang up. Why is she with one of the dancers from Elegance? She’d rather go stay with her than be here?
My own selfish reasons for wanting her to be here shouldn’t have any part of this, she obviously left for a reason but I’m irritated and also feeling rejected and like pure shit. Which is why I get on the bike and head for the address, not giving one flying fuck that it’s nearly two in the morning.
Nero is right, if I want to see if this thing can work then I’m not gonna sit back and let her slip away from me with no explanation. Rationally it can wait till tomorrow, but I’m committed now.
She can come home, explain herself and we’ll figure this out. In that order.
Chapter Nineteen
Charley
The insults have finally stopped. There is no point lying here calling myself stupid and delusional that someone like Callum could want me. If anyone deserves the name calling its him. In my limited experience, men are all assholes. No one is different. It says everything that someone like Callum who is sweet and protective and generous turns out to be an ass.
Lily’s roommate was okay with me crashing here tonight, and maybe tomorrow but I get the feeling any longer than that and I’d be unwelcome. Which is why I’m sitting up on the makeshift bed on the couch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket, filling in applications for apartments that no one will see till tomorrow.
At least I’m ahead of the game. If I can’t get a place in the next couple of days, I’ll stay in a hotel till I can. I have the money now to afford a fairly decent one. It will eat my money but I’d rather be there than another place I’m not wanted.
Lily sat up with me for a while and we had a few drinks commiserating and berating men. It slipped out that I did in fact sleep with Nashville.She congratulated me despite calling him a dirty name telling me that some of the girls had been trying to get with Nashville for years.
She’d drank a little too much that her filter slipped, and she told me Tami was the one who gave him a blow job in the back room the night I first laid eyes on him. She apologized straight away, and I waved it off, but shit… of all the women there it had to be Tami, who has made no secret of not liking me.
Maybe that makes more sense now. Because apparently everyone knows I was staying with him and driving his car.
Being alone, having no friends, no ties was good for me. I don’t like this feeling I’m experiencing now, or the re-runs my brain keeps showing me of Nashville standing between that woman’s spread legs, smiling at her like she was the only thing making him happy.
The door buzzer scares the shit out of me and I drop my phone into the pile of blankets.
“What is it with me and doorbells,” I mutter.
It sounds again and I get up. It’s got to be someone for Lily or her roommate but it’s really late. It’s probably someone who is drunk and pressing the wrong buzzer. As I head to the hallway, I trip over a shoe and kick the table leg and curse, swearing whoever this is will get a mouthful.
I slap the intercom button and snap, “who is this?” It’s silent, spiking my anger. “This isn’t funny, do you have nothing better to do than ring random apartments? Get a life asshole.”
“Charley?”
I pause with my finger on the button, my breath catching.
“Charley?” he repeats my name.
“Go away Nashville.”
“Nashville?” he asks, sounding hurt.
That only makes me madder. “Go home, I’m fine, not your problem anymore.”
“What? Charley, you’re not my problem. I was worried sick about you.”
“Right okay.”
