“Oh, no, that’s okay. I know where Mr. Thomas’ office is.”
He gives me a warm smile and places the phone back down. “Wonderful. Well, go right on and knock since his receptionist is out at lunch. Have a nice day.”
“Thanks, you too.”
Man, he is cheery. I can’t help but giggle at the fact that Reese hired a man to be his receptionist instead of a woman. I walk quickly toward Ian’s office, seeing the door already a few inches open, and go to knock when my favorite voice halts me.
“She’s fucking psychotic. I’ve never had a girl go that nuts on me after I tell her I’m done fucking her,” he says through a partially full mouth. The man does love to talk with his mouth full. I smile slightly and shake my head.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure most women you stop fucking usually flip out on you in some way or another. But that’s really fucked up that she targeted Dylan like that.” I recognize Ian’s voice and cross my arms over my chest, leaning against the wall as I listen in. “She obviously hasn’t had the pleasure of seeing Dylan’s pissed off side. Pretty dumb move on her part.”
A third voice chimes in that I’m not familiar with. “Who is this Dylan chick anyway? She hot?” Ahhh, yes, so glad I arrived here at this exact moment. Nothing like a little ego boost to brighten a Monday.
I hear chip bags ruffle. “Hot doesn’t even begin to describe her. She’s fucking beautiful,” Reese answers and I bite my lip.
“He met her at Mr. Walter’s daughter’s wedding a few weekends ago. She’s Juls’ best friend and one hell of a baker. She owns Dylan’s Sweet Tooth on Fayette. That’s the store that got the brick thrown through the window,” Ian says through a mouthful.
“Shit. So, you like this girl or is she just another one of the many women that Reese Carroll destroys in his path?” The third voice asks and I brace myself. Jesus Christ, that sounds horrible. Although, I can totally see how it applies. He is a force of nature.
Silence fills the room, several long seconds of silence. I hear a few throats clear and then his voice.
“It’s not serious if that’s what you’re asking me. You know I don’t do that shit. I like fucking her, so I do.” My mouth and my heart drop at the same time as I hear Ian’s voice say something in response to his description of our situation, but I don’t register it. Instead, I run quickly for the elevators and slip in the first one that opens.
“Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, shit.” I’m gripping the wall in the empty elevator as it takes me down to the first floor, my head spinning and my heart no longer with me, having left it on the floor outside of Ian’s office. I can’t believe he said that. After everything. After last night and after his birthday. I’m still just someone he likes to fuck. That’s it? The doors open and I run through the lobby and toward the red Civic that is still parked on the curb. Joey is leaning against the passenger door with his phone up to his ear. My appearance makes him end his call.
“What happened?”
“Take me to his place, now. I need to get my shit.” My face is covered in tears and he moves quickly, not asking any more questions as we both pile into his car.
The drive doesn’t take long and Joey remains silent as I burst into the condo and grab my duffle, aimlessly throwing my belongings into it and triple checking that I don’t leave anything behind. Because I’m never coming back here to get it. I grab my items out of the bathroom and break down when I spot his body wash, wanting to take a final whiff of it, but managing to pull myself away from the shower before I can let that happen. I run to his bedroom and grab the notebook that I got the pen out of last night and bring it out to the dining room, opening up to a blank page and grabbing the pen. I feel Joey’s hand on my back as he comes to stand next to me.
“Dylan, what happened?”
My hands are shaking as I hover the pen above the paper, not sure what exactly I want to write for him to see. There’s so much I want to say. I want to tell him how badly he’s fucked up, how much I love him, and how angry I am at him for making me fall in love with him. Because that’s exactly what he did. He pulled that love that I had buried down deep inside me right up to the surface, and now I’m drowning in it. I wipe under my eyes and look up at Joey.
“He doesn’t love me. He’s just fucking me. He doesn’t do serious.” I take in a deep shaky breath. “I’m done.” My hand begins to move as he brings his over my shoulder and holds me while I write. It’s a sloppy mess, but it’s legible. I leave it open on the table for him to read.
Reese,
I can’t do this anymore. I’m sure you’ll have no trouble finding someone who can give you what you want, but it’s not me. Please let me go.
Dylan