The Highest Bidder Read Online Free PDF Page B

you know, talking …’He chuckled softly, feeling like a pervert and a mental patient. He was sure he sounded like a horse’s ass. ‘But the other stuff was awesome …’
    Nick blew out a sigh, fighting the urge to beat his head on the nearest wall. This was not playing out well. His mouth and brain seemed to be disconnected.
    ‘Look, I sound like a moron. My point is. I was thrilled to see you today, and I was more than thrilled at the turn it took when you came in. And God … Casey, you are amazing. But it doesn’t have to be about sex, you can just come talk to me. Or we can go hiking or get a drink or whatever you like to do. What I’m trying and failing to say is that I–’
    ‘To hear your message, press seven. To erase your message, press four. To save and send your message press two or hang up.’
    He hung up. Hopefully he didn’t sound like a total dick.

    She couldn’t answer it. She just knew it was Nick and she was too embarrassed to talk to him. She’d shown up after a very dirty dream about him, attacked him, made him get naked and then burst into tears and ran away.
    Every man’s dream date, she was sure.
    She’d blubbered and sniffled all the way home and now she found herself standing in her walk-in closet looking for something comforting to wear. She was chilled to the bone but found, embarrassingly, that she didn’t want to take a shower. She wanted him to stay on her. The smell of him the feel of him and the remainder of him left inside of her.
    Casey blushed when she realised it but shrugged. Fuck it. She had acted like a fool, but as for right now, she wanted to keep the essence of Nick on her. She wanted the smell of him to comfort her. She was not ashamed of being with him; she was ashamed of her reaction.
    There were her favourite fleece pants peeking off the top shelf and a sweatshirt that had once been her dad’s but she’d liberated it from him when she was 20. The thing was at least 15 years old. Standing on tiptoe, Casey yanked the pants and everything shifted, dumping a pile of clothes on top of her. A box fell off the shelf too, to land noisily at her feet.
    ‘Jesus,’ she sighed. Somewhere in her, though, she was grateful for the mess. It would give her time before having to listen to his message. But when Casey saw what was in the box, she changed her mind. A whole stack of mementos and photographs were stuffed inside and on the top of the pile was the last birthday card Brendan had given her. It had drifted open during the tumble and the line that rose up to smack her in the face read:
    Casey, all I ever want for you in life is for you to always be happy …
    She waited. And waited. But no tears came.
    ‘Of course not. Now that you’re home alone and no one can see you or hear you, you are perfectly calm and in control.’ She shook her head.
    Putting all the stuff back in the box and placing it on the shelf with trembling hands, she drew out the clean up process. When she turned off the closet light she said, ‘I miss you,’ and headed to her bed.
    It was chilly in her room and she bundled herself up, sipping from a bottle of water she always kept on her nightstand. The mist had turned to rain and Casey listened to it tapping against the windows. She played Nick’s message back on speakerphone.
    Her heart clamping tight, her stomach buzzing with nerves, her throat growing tight all over again. She shut her eyes and listened to his warm rich voice and when it ended, she was so touched and somewhat turned on by hearing him, she played it again.
    She waited to cry, all over again. And didn’t.
    ‘No. Of course not,’ she said yawning. ‘You’ll see him tomorrow. That’s when you’ll cry. No use crying if you can’t make an ass of yourself, right?’
    She snorted, softly and felt herself drifting. Good. She wanted to sleep. For a year now, sleep had been the only place she felt calm and in control. Being utterly unconscious had been her only source of true