and boast, “Seriously, you should read it. It was off the charts when it comes to erotica.”
We continue to chat books when our food arrives, and once we are done, Erin suggests we hit up one of the night clubs. Everyone is game, so we hail a cab and make our way to a club filled with some of the hottest people I’ve ever seen. Brooke and I take a couple shots before hitting the dance floor. We dance with each other, dance with random guys, dance with the other girls, all the while laughing, drinking, and living it up until the early hours of the morning.
The sun is on the horizon as we load into a taxi van and head back to our hotel so we can get a few hours of sleep before we have to pack and fly home. With booze on our breath, we all say goodbye until we see each other at the next signing. I spend the next few hours as Madilyn passed out in my bed and then guzzling countless Gatorades in the airport while I hide my bloodshot eyes behind my sunglasses.
“Another awesome Vegas trip.”
I look over to Brooke and smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”
It’s edging close to midnight as I pull the car into the garage. When I grab my luggage from the trunk and head into the house, irritation slaps me across the face the moment I flick on the lights. The girls’ books and art supplies are strewn across the living room, and the kitchen sink is filled with dirty dishes.
Goodbye Madilyn; hello Tori.
A glow peeks under the bottom of my bedroom door, and I do my best to bite against the bitter taste of annoyance as I walk in and see Landon lying in bed, watching television.
“Welcome home,” he says. “How was your trip?”
“Fine,” I snip as I wheel my luggage into the closet.
“Everything okay?”
“Just perfect.”
I unzip the suitcase and toss my dirty clothes in the laundry basket.
“What’s going on?” Landon questions when he walks into the closet.
I throw another wad of clothes into the basket and then straighten myself, planting my hands on my hips. “You couldn’t have tried to clean up before I got home?” My voice is belittling, I know. But I’m tired, hungover, and battling a piercing headache.
“By the time I got the girls to bed, I was drained.”
“You look pretty damn relaxed if you ask me. Here it is, midnight, and you’re chilling in front of the television when you knew I’d be dead to the world when I got home,” I nag, sounding like the acerbic housewife I swore I’d never be. “And now, instead of going to bed, I have to clean that shit up.”
Landon’s face hardens and his words are clipped when he bites back at my sour mood. “I’ll clean it in the morning.”
“I don’t want to wake up to that mess.”
“Then I’ll clean it before you get up. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that this place was clean when I left, and I shouldn’t have to come home to a mess after a long weekend.”
“I wish I had your life, Tor. No, really, I do. It must be rough to have to leave your family for a couple days to party it up in Vegas.”
His pugnacious mood rankles my nerves even more. “I can’t help that my job looks different than yours, but don’t you dare forget that it is indeed a job that affords us the lifestyle we have.” I immediately regret the low blow I just served him, but before I can apologize, he throws the animosity right back at me.
“And who afforded you the luxury to discover this new career of yours? Don’t forget I solely supported this family for years while you stayed at home and didn’t work. I bust my fucking ass for you and the girls,” he snaps. “But you don’t see that because you’re blinded by a few dirty dishes in the goddamn sink.”
“I never said you didn’t bust your ass at work.”
“Dammit, Tori. I’ve been killing myself working all these extra hours. Cut me a little slack.”
We come to a deadlock as we both stand and glare at each other. These spats aren’t out of the norm for us when we are both drained. Landon hates fighting—I do too—but I also think it’s normal for couples who have been together as long as we have to get into arguments. At least that’s what I tell myself: that we