30 Days (Lost Love Trilogy #1) - Belle Brooks Page 0,29

nod before finding comfort in his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the calmness of the sound settling me.

He jerks back. He begins to free me. “Okay, she’s on her way back. Good luck.”

Luck is not what I need right now. I need a miracle.

Sammy and I talk for the next hour. I fill her in on everything that happened. Strangely, she’s proud of the fact I let myself be with another man, but not letting people know where I was overshadows this.

“Get some sleep,” Sammy orders after making me drink a litre of water, even though I tell her a million times I’m not, nor have I been, drunk tonight. Happy? Yes. Drunk? No. “You have work in the morning and you’re going, so don’t argue.”

As I climb under the covers of the spare bed in the room opposite hers, every part of me feels dirty. Every part of me feels remorseful. But most of all, the hurt bottled inside of me seems like it will never end.

The door cracks open, and I can see a silhouette.

“Dorothy?”

“Yes, Ginger.”

“I love you.”

“Ditto.”

Sammy climbs in beside me. “What am I going to do with you?” She sighs.

“Keep loving me. All you can do is never stop loving me.”

TEN

Damage Control

Morning sun burns my eyelids through a gap in the blinds.

“Go away, morning. Stop taunting me with your rays of hell.” I groan, rolling over to escape its brightness. My eyes flutter open.

Sammy. She looks tortured as she sleeps. Her face is scrunched tight and her breathing rapid.

“No, stop doing this,” she gripes.

What’s she dreaming about? I stroke her hair gently. Her face relaxes.

“Jackson,” she mumbles, pursing her lips.

“It’s okay, babe,” I whisper.

She smiles briefly. Her breathing calms and a peaceful sleep ensues.

“I’m sorry, Ginger. I’m so sorry I’m such a screw up.”

Turning onto my back, I can’t help but think about last night—Marcus and his magic touch, Sammy and her anger, and Mosby and his comfort. Hoping it was only a dream, I climb out from under the sheets and sit perched on the edge of the bed. I know it wasn’t, a dream, but if I pretend hard enough, can it be?

I drag my body out of bed, head to the loo, let out a stream of pee that could drown a city, and then shuffle my feet against the flooring until I reach the kitchen.

“Good morning, Abs,” Mosby says way too energetic for this hour of the day.

I grunt in response.

“Well, aren’t you just a delightful morning person.” He passes me a glass of water.

I skull every drop. “More,” I demand.

He hands a second glass over, and it goes down as quickly as the first.

Placing it heavily on a tacky green bench, I stumble a few steps.

“Still drunk?”

“Nope. Wasn’t to start with, just thirsty.”

He cocks an eyebrow.

Yeah, yeah, yeah you don’t believe me. Big whoop. But I’m telling the truth this time.

“Are you hungry?”

“Yep.”

“Would you like some toast then?”

“Time machine,” I reply with my hands covering my face in shame.

“If only, right? Come on, why don’t you sit and talk to me?” Mosby walks to the counter and sits on one of the stools. “Whatever you did I’m sure you’ve done worse, so it can’t be that bad.” He pats the seat beside him.

“Oh, but it is. You’ve no idea how very out of control this once innocent flower is.”

“Well, I’m good a listener … if you want to talk.”

“I slept with a man from my office last night,” I blurt out, without thinking first. “So, yeah … I’m now a skank. I should just become a stripper. At least then people would expect this from me.” As my hand smacks my forehand, Mosby stands, grabbing my wrist.

“Don’t smack yourself. Sit. Let me get you something to eat.”

I pull out a stool tucked under the breakfast bar and sit. I lay my head against the coldness of the countertop. “Ground, please swallow me up,” I plead.

“Hey, look at me.” His eyes are kind as they connect mine.

“God, you’re good-looking,” I declare.

He blushes. “Thank you.” He’s flattered, I can tell, yet I can also see he’s suspicious of my compliment.

“No, seriously, you’re super-hot. You’re not just a fuckable face, either. You’re nice, and you treat my Ginger like a frickin’ queen.” I take a deep breath. “I still think somewhere deep inside of you, though, there’s evil, but I can tell you’re a good person … Why are you the only good man alive?”

He laughs loudly but stops quickly. “Okaay.” He emphasizes each