"Guess we're skipping that talk," I muttered when I walked back in with my supplies to find Landon passed out.
I placed the water and Tylenol on the nightstand and proceeded to take off Landon's shoes. He could sleep in the rest of his clothes for all I cared. I patted down his pockets to remove his wallet and cell phone. I dropped the wallet next to the provisions and plugged in his phone to the charger curled around the lamp.
The screen lit up, and for one nosy second, my eyes dropped down onto the screen.
I cringed when I saw the entire screen was full of messages from Miranda.
I pulled my eyes away. Here I was, taking care of someone else's husband when his wife had been messaging him nonstop. No matter what he had been going on between us-the feelings we'd been harboring for too damn long-I knew we were in the wrong.
We were so in the wrong.
My eyes landed on the lit screen one more time, and I guiltily read a few of the messages. I knew I shouldn't, but if I saw what she was saying to him, then maybe it would give me the push to put this whole thing behind me for good.
Landon, I love you so much. Please, answer your phone.
I'll always love you. I know we have a future together. We can't be separated. Think about all we've been through.
We can make this work, Landon. I'm so sorry. I wasn't in my right mind. I can't imagine my life without you. Please, please, my love, please let's work this out.
I jerked away from his phone, as if I'd put my hand into a bed of red-hot coals.
Holy fuck!
Miranda is a wreck!
She was a total wreck. And she had no idea that I had contributed to this in some way. She had no idea that her husband had come here and promptly kissed another woman. And that was all I was-the other woman.
He might be separated, but they weren't over.
I stared down at him sleeping peacefully on the bed and wanted nothing more than to curl up beside him. But I wouldn't.
Landon Wright didn't belong to me.
He belonged to Miranda.
I wouldn't be stupid enough to forget it again.
Five
Landon
"Fuuuck," I groaned.
My stomach heaved, and I rolled over to find a conveniently placed trash can for me to empty my stomach into. Thank fuck!
After I was finally able to sit up, I squinted into the brightly lit room and tried to remember where the fuck I was. It looked like Austin's place, but how had I gotten here? After kissing Heidi and seeing her talk to Brandon McCain, the rest of the night got kind of fuzzy.
I fumbled for the bottle of water on the nightstand and downed three-quarters of it before realizing there was Tylenol next to it. Someone must have read my mind. There was no way I'd gotten this all together last night. Not if I couldn't even remember it.
Fuck, I mean, my shoes were off, my wallet was out of my pocket, and my phone was even charging on the nightstand. I couldn't have come home alone; that much was for sure. Austin wouldn't have gone to the trouble. I wasn't sure he even got hangovers anymore.
Slowly, I eased into a standing position and took the Tylenol for my splitting headache. I stripped out of the clothes I'd worn last night and found a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. Then, I palmed my cell phone and headed out into the living room.
"Morning, sunshine," Austin called from the living room. He had SportsCenter on in the background and was drinking a Bloody Mary.
"How can you even look at alcohol?"
"We have a special relationship."
I laughed and then held my head in pain. A special relationship to say the least.
"What time is it anyway?"
"One in the afternoon," Austin announced.
"Fuck," I groaned.
I slouched into a chair and pulled up the messages on my phone. I'd ignored Miranda all day yesterday, but fuck, she had filled up my text messages, and I had seventeen voice mails. Christ!
No way was I in the mood to listen to any of those. From a brief scroll through the texts, I could already see that it was her same shit. I'd deal with that conversation when I got home. I didn't want to talk to her about the shit she'd tried to pull or the argument we'd gotten into.
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't an idiot. She had tried to hide shit from me and then acted like a cornered animal when I'd confronted her. Despite our long and damaged history, she hadn't thought I'd call it quits. No matter that I'd wanted to divorce her a year ago. I'd drawn up papers and everything, but she had gotten pregnant and I'd said I'd give us one more chance. Then chance after chance after chance after marriage counseling chance I'd given her until her latest bout of bullshit. I'd given her so many chances she never thought I'd walk. Now that I'd finally had enough, I knew what she was really freaking out about-losing her paycheck.