Bad Boy (An Indecent Proposal) - J.C. Reed Page 0,65

remember him the way I had come to know him: as Mystery Guy.

A guy with so many secrets he deserved his own mystery novel.

A man who had made me laugh, who had given me a special time to remember him by, who had made me trust him, open up to him. In spite of the lies he had told me, he’d always be in my heart.

As soon as the door closed, I willed myself to sleep, if only to stop the tears and the pain.

When I woke up again, evening was falling and the sun was setting on the horizon. Ignoring the pain in my skull, I forced myself to my feet when my gaze fell on the tiny note on Chase’s side of the bed.

It read:

I’ve left something for you at reception.

Consider it my parting gift.

Your husband

I pressed the note to my chest. Whatever Chase wanted me to have, it could wait. I wasn’t yet ready for more tears. It was hard enough that my room, the pillows, even my shirt, smelled of him. It was bad enough to know that the bed I was lying on was the one where we had made love. And it wasn’t just the room—it was everything about me, as if a part of him had remained behind, attaching itself to me in the form of memories, thoughts, feelings. I could almost see him standing to my left, sporting the most beautiful smile on his face while telling me what to wear. Peering to my right, I remembered the way he had kissed me on that spot before he pulled me into his arms with a fervor that had left me breathless.

It felt as though an entire week had passed, instead of hours. Already I missed our banter, his smile, everything about him. I peered at the time on my cell phone. By now his plane had taken off, returning him to a life that didn’t involve me.

Calling Jude was the right thing to do. Luckily, she sensed my inner turmoil instantly and stopped asking questions.

“When are you coming home?” she asked.

“Probably tomorrow.”

“And Chase?” She hesitated, as though she didn’t know whether he was a subject she could bring up. I could sense her discomfort in her delayed question.

“Don’t worry about him.” For the first time in my life, I didn’t try to hide the sadness in my voice. “He left. It’s better this way.”

The toxic tears from before began to build up in my eyes. It took all my willpower not to give in and break down. As if sensing it, Jude changed the subject, fake cheerfulness infused into her tone.

“Hey, I can’t wait to see you again,” she said. “I’ve heard of this yoga center that we need to check out. It’s supposed to be super cheap and great for you. I also bought the new Walking Dead season on DVD.”

“Great.” I smiled, missing her so much. “Did you have a sneak peek?”

“What kind of friend do you take me for?” she asked. “You know I’d never do something like that without you.”

I smiled, feeling grateful for the fact that when I returned to L.A. someone would be there for me.

Jude was right. She was my family. The only family I ever had. There was nothing I wouldn’t have given up for her.

“My flight’s tomorrow,” I said.

“You promise?”

I laughed through the curtain of tears blurring my vision. “You can bet on it.”

I ended the call quickly and began to plan the last day of my short vacation. The return flight ticket had to be booked so I called the reception area to inquire about available tickets.

Packing my things kept me busy for an hour or two. It had been a short vacation, but I felt different. Wiser. I had grown as a person. I finished up, leaving my bikini on the bed, deciding to visit the beach one last time, even though without Chase it wasn’t going to feel the same.

Once everything was packed, I headed downstairs.

“I hope you had a pleasant stay at Casa Estevan,” the receptionist said. It was the same one who had greeted me upon my arrival. Her hair was still bleached, and her eyebrows looked still horrible, but her smile—it looked genuine and caring.

“Thank you. It was the best.”

“I’m so glad to hear.” She handed me the info leaflet. “Here’s your flight information. I made sure to print everything out.”

“Thank you. I’ll be checking out tomorrow morning.” I flicked through the leaflet, and then pulled out