“I said I’m not coming. Did you not hear me?”
“Aubrey…” She lowered her voice. “I’ve been trying to hold back for the past few weeks, but you know what? I am sick and tired of you being so damn thoughtless and selfish about your father’s aspirations. Neither of us personally give a damn about your thoughts on the election, but since you’re a member of this family, I demand that you—”
“Go to hell.” I hung up and continued packing, even faster now.
Subject: Cab.
Miss Aubrey Everhart,
Your cab has arrived at the address you specified. It will wait for exactly five minutes.
—Durham Cab Co.
I rushed into the bathroom and filled a plastic bag with toiletries, and then I placed them into my suitcase and headed outside.
“Bus station, right?” The cab driver, a woman, smiled as I approached.
“Yes, please.”
She took my bags and placed them into the trunk as I slid into the backseat. I felt my heart hurting with every second that passed, and as much as I tried to block out the thoughts about Andrew, images of his face infiltrated my brain anyway.
I was picturing the last full night we spent together, the night before he kicked me out of his condo, and no matter how hard I tried to make sense of what happened the very next night, I couldn’t. All I could do was cry.
My phone vibrated against my knee and I flipped it over, hoping to see Mr. Petrova’s name, but it was Andrew.
“Hello?” I answered.
“What are you doing?”
“I have ballet practice on Wednesdays…Shouldn’t you know that by now?”
“If you were actually in ballet practice you wouldn’t be picking up your phone.”
Silence.
“Aubrey?” He sounded concerned. “Are you crying?”
“No.” I lied, turning up the volume on my car radio.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just said—”
“Stop fucking lying to me, Aubrey,” he said. “What’s wrong with you?”
“I got sent home from practice today.”
“Okay. And?”
“There is no ‘And’ about this…” Tears welled in my eyes. “I’ve never been sent home before. He made me feel like shit today. He even told the understudy to be prepared to take my place right in front of me, and then he told me not to come back until next week…”
“I’ve told you the reason why he does that. Why don’t you believe me?”
“Because I really was bad today,” I admitted. “My feet are swollen and I didn’t bandage them properly, so I was off by an eighth of a count for most of the day…”
He sighed. “I’m sure you were still ten times better than everyone else. Don’t you think?”
“No…”
“Trust me. I’m pretty sure he’s just—”
“Can I come over tonight?” I cut him off, hoping for a yes, but all I heard was silence. I knew I’d pushed my luck the first couple nights we spent together, but I didn’t want it to be a rare thing. I wanted more.
“Are you going to give me an answer, Andrew?”
“Yes,” he said. “You can come over. Where are you?”
“Outside your door.”
He opened it seconds later and looked me up and down, raising his eyebrow. “I would’ve picked you up.”
“I almost asked you to…”
He grabbed my hand and pulled me inside, keeping his eyes locked on mine. As the door shut, he pulled me into his arms and shook his head at me.
“What are you doing, Aubrey?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why do you keep insisting on breaking every rule I have?”
“Why do you keep letting me?”
Without saying another word, his lips were on mine and his hands were sliding around my waist—deftly unbuttoning my skirt, quickly pushing it down to the floor.
His hands grazed my backside, searching for my panties, but there were none.
“Remind me to return your collection.” He laughed softly and led me over to the couch.
He dropped my hand and then he sat on the floor, looking up at me. Unzipping his pants, he pulled out a condom and slowly rolled it over his cock.
I started to bend low so I could sit next to him, but he grabbed my thighs.
“Stop,” he said. “I don’t want you to sit on the floor.”
“Okay.” I looked over my shoulder. “Do you want me to sit on the coffee table?”
“No…” He trailed his fingers up my legs. “On my face.”
“What?”
“Sit your pussy on my face.”
I stood still, speechless—unable to process what he’d just asked me to do.