Chapter 12

12

E LIZABETH

Monday

Colorado

Oh… The aftermath of an amazing weekend feels like a hangover as I face a busy Monday.

I couldn’t leave right away.

We spent Friday night in that remote motel in Long Island, barely having a wink of sleep.

Lying naked between the sheets did us no favor as we couldn’t stop touching each other or pulling away from one another.

We couldn’t not find our way back to him being buried inside me and me shivering against his chest.

We were crazy, passionate, unable to satiate ourselves.

We wanted to catch up on things, yet we spent the entire time having sex.

We didn’t talk about anything of consequence or relevance. Anything that could connect us to reality.

We created our world and lived in it, knowing full well the clock was ticking, and he needed to go back to his life while I needed to go back to mine.

I don’t know about his life, but mine kind of sucks on Monday morning as I take a shower, and fresh off the plane from New York, I toss some regular clothes on and rush out the door.

I go straight for my new ride and make a quick stop at the cafe in the neighborhood, where I buy a cup of black coffee and a muffin.

I gobble down the muffin before sipping coffee and veering my car onto the road.

We left the motel on Saturday morning and had eggs, coffee, and cinnamon rolls at a local diner.

It felt weird to wear party clothes, but no one paid attention to us. And we felt so damn good, freed from the expectations of other people, not having to hide.

The diner wasn’t busy, and we occupied a window table where we ate and talked stupid stuff.

Nothing about his company, money, wealth, exes, and dramatic past made it into our conversation.

And nothing about me living a double life, jumping through hoops to see him, having a stalker, maybe, and still hiding my new car.

Not to mention me hoarding money.

We didn’t talk about how delicate my relationship with my best friend is. And how I had to feed my mother a story, and she believed it because she is that kind of good, trustful woman.

I lived those moments with gusto as if I knew they’d abruptly end at some point, and I could do nothing about it. As much as I knew there was a price to pay. And beggars can’t be choosers and all that.

I didn’t mention anything about my new realization that my book might never come to life while my life had started to look like a crazy book.

We became two people who shed our regular lives and got engrossed in satisfying anonymity.

We didn’t return to New York, so I could take the plane the next day.

I sent my mother a message to tell her I was okay. Asked her not to give Chloe any details in case she called and asked about me. I also told my mother I’d spend the weekend in New York since the hotel room I stayed in had been booked for three nights.

Like mother, like daughter.

We both like a good deal and she told me to enjoy it.

And I did.

I powered off my phone and turned my focus to my man.

He was quiet, contemplative, and seemed happy and non-judgmental in regards to my pulling some strings and employing white little lies.

My mother would have nothing against him. So it wasn’t like I went against her advice.

Once I took care of that business, we drove east. East to his house. It was a long drive we fully enjoyed.

The weather was nice, although the air was crisp, and we only made a stop when we reached his town.

We bought some food and ordered takeout for the evening, the idea being that we didn’t want to go out the next twenty-four hours.

And we didn’t.

We had dinner at his house. And then we had sex, swam naked––although we froze our butts off––and soaked in the bathtub upstairs for a full hour, his arms around me, my back pressed into his chest.

Even then, I saw no point in telling him that James and Rain had most likely figured us out.

Frankly, it bore no significance.

It didn’t matter.

We belonged to each other, and it was enough.

Saturday night was very much like the previous night, although with expensive sheets, instrumental music in the background, dim lights, and smooth sex.

The man was no longer fucking me for money. Our old, beloved game.

In fact, he gave me nothing other than his time, his attention, and his body. And I loved it a lot.

The initial plan after the original plan fell sideways was for me to return on Sunday, but we couldn’t do that either. So he made a couple of phone calls, had the helicopter pilot pick us up and fly us to New York, and then he drove me to the airport in a different car.

He left the first one at his house.

Our goodbye kiss felt like death as I knew we wouldn’t see each other for a while.

And he wasn’t happy either.

But here I am.

The campus looms in the distance, and as grumpy as I am right now, I still have to go to class, turn on my phone, and deal with whatever craziness life has in store for me this morning.

ELIZABETH

Later

My backpack feels heavier than usual as I move quickly toward the exit.

Perhaps it’s because I’m tired.

I almost fell asleep a couple of times in class this morning.

A snack will replenish my energy before I return to campus, so I’m anxious to get out, dash to a nearby food place, and grab something to eat.

A sea of people sprawls out in front of me when I finally reach the exit, my hand latched onto my backpack.

I cut my way through them, looking down, sunk in thought, when I suddenly bump into someone, and my eyes fly up.

The man excuses himself, and then my gaze zips across the lawn. A man sits behind the wheel in a dark car and glances at me a few times.

I stop and study him.

Is this fucking Keith again?

A few moments pass before I set myself in motion and make a beeline for his car.

He seemingly talks to someone on the phone––his lips move––and looks at me with intent, appearing to wrap up his conversation.

With large strides I round the front of his car and stop by his door. The window rolls down after my firm knock.

“Liz?” he asks as if he hasn’t noticed me before. “What are you doing?”

A smile clings to his lips. His knowing grin rubs me the wrong way.

“Are you stalking me?” I shoot at him.

“What?”

He acts surprised, but I can see through his game.

“Have you been stalking me?” I raise my voice.

“What are you talking about?” he mumbles.

His unnerving smile irritates me to no end. I straighten and cross my arms over my chest.

“Why are you stalking me?”

“I am not stalking you,” he says, not losing his good disposition. “Why would I do something like that?”

I shrug.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

He holds my gaze for a few seconds as if weighing whether to come clean and then shifts in his seat with the clear intention of getting out of his car.

I zip my hand to his door.

“Stay inside, please. I need an answer from you.”

His smile fades.

“Why would I stalk you, Liz?” he asks, his intonation suggesting something might not be right with me.

That sets me off.

“Stop playing games with me,” I bark. “I saw you following me. You were in this car.”

I point to his ride.

“It was the same car,” I say again.

He crashes back, softly shrugging a shoulder.

“Maybe it happened that we were on the same road. Look around you.” He makes a gesture, a bit provocative and arrogant. “There’s a ton of people in cars like mine.”

I slap my hand against his car.

“There’s no need to be a jerk with me.”

He laughs.

See?

I knew it.

And now I know that I’m right.

He’s followed me.

But why?

“Have you been at my house?” I drop on him, and his laughter ends abruptly.

He looks at me like I’m crazy, but no matter how good he is at fucking with me, I still can see a hint of perverse amusement in his gaze.

Staring into my eyes, he speaks monotonously.

“I have no idea where you live. And I only met you once at that club. What the fuck is wrong with you, woman?”

He peels his eyes away from mine and starts the car before backing up.

I watch him with dismay as he moves away and takes a different route so he doesn’t have to slide past me.

And now, I’m absolutely convinced he was at my house that night. A chill rushes down my spine.

Why would he do that to me?

Was that a coincidence?

No, fuck now.

There’s no way it was.

Does he have a crush on me?

Of course he doesn’t have a crush on me.

I suck in a deep breath and let out a long exhale.

Do I need to call the police?

A hand lands on my shoulder and I jerk away, startled, unable to breathe.

“Chloe?? What the fuck? You scared the shit out of me.”

I put a twisted smile on my lips.

She looks at me, just as surprised.

“Sorry. I didn’t want to scare you. What happened?”

“What?”

Her eyes move over my face.

She wears athletic gear, a backpack clinging to her shoulder.

“Was that Keith?” she asks. “The guy in that car?”

It’s useless to deny it.

“Yeah. That was him.”

A smile stretches across her lips.

“Are you two seeing each other or something?’

“No.”

My eyes slide down.

“What are you doing here dressed like this?”

“This is my day off, so I went to the gym and came here hoping to have lunch with you. What do you think?”

I ponder for a few seconds.

There’ll be no more driving for me right now, but having lunch with her doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

“Sounds good,” I say. “What about we grab a slice of pizza down the block?”

She laughs.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind. Not.”

“You don’t like it?”

“I come from the gym. I love pizza. But I thought more about a salad with some protein. Never mind,” she says, gesturing. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

Looping her arm through mine, she nudges me down the street.