an adult, I held my breath a little, trying to cling to the fact that Trevor had said he cared about me—not that it was a surprise. I knew he did. But one nice girl after another? I could have done without that, not that I wasn’t already fully aware of it. “But thanks, Trev. I appreciate it.”
There was another pause. Another sigh. “Maybe I’m saying this as a selfish asshole because I don’t want you to get hurt and leave him hanging. You’re good with him. To him. Just… hear me out.”
I pressed my lips flat for a moment and tried my best to keep my voice level. “I will.”
At last he changed the subject. “And don’t listen to everything that Vanessa says.”
That Vanessa? I didn’t say anything. How the hell had he known she would say something?
And that must have made him laugh because he knew exactly what I was doing. “You hear from him or see him, tell him to call me. Bye, Bianca.”
“Bye, Trev.”
He didn’t even correct me that time, and it made me feel a little worse.
Dropping my phone on top of my chest, I exhaled and stared at the tall ceiling.
Before I could convince myself that it was a bad idea, or that I had no business, or that friends didn’t do that kind of stalker shit, I grabbed my phone again and opened up the old trusty Picturegram app and went to the search option.
I wasn’t proud of myself, but I typed in what I typed in.
It didn’t take long to find it. Just a few rows down, I found what Trevor had to have been talking about. A picture someone had posted hours ago.
It was of Zac sitting with a woman on his lap.
He was in what looked like a wide booth, with that smile of his that annoyed me, and she was there, perched, with her boobies all up in his face.
My fingertips went numb. The rest of my hands tingled too, if I was going to be honest. I might have even felt nauseous.
I tried to look for any sign that I was wrong, that the picture hadn’t been taken yesterday, but I couldn’t remember what the hell he’d been wearing. And the girl was covering most of his clothes with her body anyway. Did his hair look longer or was I imagining it?
And what? If it hadn’t been taken last night, then it would suddenly be better if it had been a week ago? Two weeks ago? Three weeks ago? I tried to reason with myself.
Mostly, I was so proud of myself for calmly exiting the app and slowly rolling up into a sitting position.
This was nothing new. I had seen this before even though it had been months. He had invited me, and I had said no. Maybe it would have happened even if I had gone along.
It was fine.
I sniffed.
Okay, it wasn’t fine, and I was a fucking idiot for thinking I could do this shit. That I could see it and deal with it. That my lack of expectations would keep me grounded.
He didn’t need me. I was just his old friend who made him feel… safe. He hated silence. He missed home.
I was a fool. A fool in so many ways I couldn’t even begin to count them.
But I wasn’t going to be for much longer, and I knew what I needed to do.
I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower.
That was when my phone rang again. It was a one-eight-hundred number.
Chances were, it was nothing to be excited about, but….
I answered it. “Hello?”
“Hello. Can I please speak with Ms. Brannen?”
“That’s me,” I answered.
“Great. I’m so glad to get you on the phone, Ms. Brannen. I was calling you in regards to the claim you filed….”
The next thing to wake me up was the knocking at the hotel room hours and hours later.
The super light knocking.
One peek at my phone showed that it was eleven thirty at night. There were a couple of missed texts from Connie… and from Zac too, apparently. I’d answer them in a minute, I figured, getting to my feet with a yawn. I peeked into the room with the kids. The two little boys were sharing a roll-out, twin-sized bed, and the little girl, Fiona, was passed out in her crib.
We’d had a lot of fun earlier.
I wasn’t sure who had been more surprised by it: me or them, the Graves family. Because when the doorbell at