“Book my flight and send me the info. Don’t forget.”
“Believe me, I won’t.” I hang up with my sister and head back to the window, crossing my arms.
Zane hasn’t moved. He just stands there with the kind of smart-ass smirk I could slap off his face if I wanted.
Sliding the window open, I lean out. “What are you doing here?”
His brows meet. “Um, checking on you. I came back to the room and you were gone. And your clothes were scattered all over my kitchen.”
He lifts up a wad of rumpled garments.
I pop open the screen and yank them from his hands, exchanging them for the clothes I took from his dresser.
“Here,” I say. “Now go.”
“Aren’t you going to let me explain?” He laughs, like this situation is hilarious, but it isn’t.
“You fucked me and then told me to hide,” I say. “That says it all, don’t you think?”
He scratches the underside of his chin, smirking and glancing to the side. “It’s not like that.”
“I heard you tell someone you were alone,” I say.
“Delilah, who are you talking to in there?” Aunt Rue’s muffled voice pushes through the other side of my bedroom door.
“God damn it, you woke her up,” I whisper. I shoo him off. “Go. Get out of here.”
“Can I come back over later?” he asks.
“No!”
“What are you doing tomorrow night?”
“I’m busy,” I whisper, popping the screen back into place before Rue busts in here demanding an explanation.
“What about Friday?”
“My sister is coming into town.”
“Then when?”
“Delilah?” Rue calls out again. “I hear you talking in there and your door is locked. Is everything okay?”
My jaw is clenched. “Go home.”
I slam the window closed and pull the curtains together before rushing to the door.
“Sorry, I was in the bathroom. Did you need something?” I ask Rue.
She clutches at the neckline of her robe, eyes sharp as they study me. “No, sweetheart. I was just passing down the hall to get a drink of water, and I heard you talking. You sounded upset. Is everything okay?”
I laugh. “I was talking to Daphne on the phone. We were joking around about something. Everything’s fine. She’s going to fly in this weekend.”
Rue’s face lights. “Oh, how wonderful. I can’t wait to see her!”
I nod. “Me too.”
“All right, well, I’m heading back to bed. Again. I suggest you do the same. I was hoping maybe tomorrow you could help me organize my storage room and get rid of a few things.”
“Of course.”
She gives me a tired smile and limps away, and I shut the door behind her. Tiptoeing back to my window, I peek out from the side of the curtain to see if he’s still out there.
But he’s gone.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about his explanation, but it doesn’t matter at this point.
We did what we did.
He said what he said.
I heard what I heard.
And it made me feel cheap.
Used.
Filthy.
“I’m so glad you’re here. You have no idea.” I’m cruising down the interstate Friday afternoon, my twin sister beside me on the front seat of Rue’s Lexus.
“Does that mean you’re rolling out the red carpet this weekend?” Daphne fishes around in her purse, yanking out her phone and turning it on. The tap-tap-tap of her taupe nails against her screen is distracting.
“You’re not texting Pierre, are you?” I wrinkle my nose, disgusted at the image of that forty-year-old French asshole who broke my sister’s heart this year.
“Non.” She slides her phone back into her purse, pulling the visor down and fixing her flaxen hair in the mirror. Sweeping up her loose tendrils and re-doing her top knot before slicking on a coat of pink lip balm, Daphne goes from zero to Gigi Hadid in three seconds flat.
My sister is the epitome of effortless chic with her full lips, honeyed skin, long legs, and white-blonde hair. And to top it all off, she’s even more beautiful on the inside. Free-spirited. Adventurous. Sweet. Inherently blissful.
I suppose no one ever said life was fair.
“Are you talking to someone now?” I pry a bit more.
She turns to face me. “I’ve been back in Rixton Falls less than a month. Who would I be talking to? And why are you being so nosy? Maybe we should focus on your personal escapades, Little Miss Strange-Men-Knocking-At-Your-Window.”
I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile and focusing on passing the car ahead.
“So you going to tell me about him or what?” she asks.
“He’s Rue’s next door neighbor. He plays football,” I say. “Pro football. Gainesville Cougars.”