Not Looking for Love: Episode 6 (A New Adult Contemporary Romance Novel) Read Online Free PDF Page B

it happened to someone else.
    "I'll be there in an hour," I say, already kind of reconsidering.  
    Being in this apartment, it feels a little like Scott might walk in at any moment. Then we could make some dinner, watch a movie, or just go to bed early. Desire wakes in me, followed by a sharp, painful jolt through my stomach.  
    He cheated on me, broke up with me after the first serious argument. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled at him like I did at Kate's house. But he could've stayed true long enough for me to apologize. I did understand his need to help Mike. I still do. Just right then, getting slapped in the face with it, I needed some time. And a huge part of me wants to call him right now and tell him all that, ask him to come over. To come back. Leave a message, if he doesn't pick up.  
    But the rational part is louder. I can't keep pulling him back. He's made it very clear that being with me is not something he really wants. Whether he loves me or not.  
    It's a tough one to swallow. Love isn't supposed to work that way. And I know he loves me, I can feel it in every fiber, every cell of my being. Yet he also left me. I know that too. So I hold on hard to the clarity I've fought so hard to regain.
    I hastily pack a change of clothes, my toothbrush, and my schools stuff for Monday. Maybe I'll come right back, or maybe I'll stay the weekend. All I know right now is that I shouldn't be alone anymore. Thoughts are looping in my mind and none of them are making much sense. Not for long anyway.

"You wanna go do something in the city?" Mike asks on the way back from the warehouse. Like it's just any old Friday night, and he's not a psycho involved with even bigger psychos.
    I'm staring at him, and I don't even have to catch my reflection in the window to know my mouth is open. I literally have no idea how to answer. ‘No, I want to go home and never see you again.’ That wouldn't work. ‘Yes, sure, why not?’ That's even worse.
    "Stop staring at me like that. It's creepy," Mike says finally.
    "I’m creepy? What the fuck do you call that scene then?" I finally find some words. "What are you involved in?"
    "Us, Scott, it’s us. We're both involved in this now." He digs into his pocket and pulls out a black phone, tossing it in my lap. "That's your new phone. Get rid of the old one."
    I can't do that. Then Gail will never be able to call me again. Mike maybe reads my expression correctly because he adds, "Or at least don't call me from it. Or anyone else we work with."
    I flip the phone on, scroll through a couple of the screens. It's brand new, never been used probably. Or maybe it once belonged to someone who's now dead. Maybe even the guy dying right now.
    "Who are these people, Mike?" I ask.
    "I guess you'll find out eventually…" He sighs. "Vlado heads a large organization. They deal with all sorts of things, including rare, expensive cars. Which you'll be helping them with. And that's all you need to know."
    "What are the other things they deal with?" I ask, imitating his business-like tone.  
    "Like I said, nothing for you to worry about right now," Mike says.  
    "You seem to be in it pretty good. Why do you need me?" Whatever all of this is, it doesn't seem like anything I'll be able to walk away from. Ever. Unless I'm dead.  
    "You'll get a call pretty soon with further instructions, maybe as soon as tomorrow," Mike says. "So how about that drink in the city."
    "I wanna go home," I mutter. Crawl under the covers and not think of anything at all. But it's like the middle of the afternoon, and it doesn't look like tomorrow will be any better.
    "To that sorry ass apartment?" Mike snorts. "Come on, Scott. Get a normal place already."
    "I had a normal place, back in Connecticut," I mumble, staring out the window. We're on the expressway, the cars whizzing by making me nauseous.  
    "That was just a nice interlude for you," Mike says.
    What a quaint way to put it. Interlude. I didn't even know he knew that word.