Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,70

if I go.”

“Well, that’s something we can both agree on, at least. See you on Monday morning, and make sure you wait for a response before walking in on me. I wouldn’t want you to see something you shouldn’t. Again.” It was a cheap shot, but I was pissed at her, and wanted to make her feel at least a fraction as shitty as I did.

“Understood. Enjoy the rest of your weekend. See you on Monday.”

She turned away from me as she spoke, and while she left the room. As I watched her retreating back, my relief at making her feel bad enough to leave me the fuck alone totally evaporated, and all that was left were the same old feelings I was constantly trying to outrun. Guilt. Disgust. Shame.

I rolled a blunt to take the edge off. There was no way I was going to allow myself to go there. I didn’t care if I had to smoke and snort myself into a coma, I wasn’t going to let myself think about Lily.

Chapter 26

Noa

* * *

Five weeks later

* * *

I’d dreaded going back to work on the Monday following the disastrous “date” with Raine, but even more, I’d dreaded going home to Michelle right afterward. I’d known she wouldn’t gloat and be all “I told you so,” but, on the other hand, she had told me so, and I had a whole lot of egg all over my face, whether she pointed that out or not. I felt so fucking stupid.

As it was, she’d been so supportive—canceling her Saturday and Sunday plans to sit and binge-watch reruns of cheesy 90s TV shows with me, in our PJs, while eating cookies and drinking copious amounts of wine—that I’d felt stupid for worrying about facing her. She was my ride or die—of course she had my back, even when I fucked up in ways that she’d forewarned me about.

I’d bawled so much I felt like there was literally no liquid left inside me, but the weirdest part was that I wasn’t crying about Raine. I mean, that wasn’t actually all that strange. It wasn’t like we’d had the last of the great romances. In fact, it wasn’t a romance at all. It was sex. Mind-blowingly amazing sex, but still just sex. I could get that pretty much anywhere. I could use the “friend” I kept in my nightstand to get me where I needed to go, and not even have to leave my room.

I’d been crying about what I’d potentially lost as a result of the unfortunate situation with Raine—possibly my job and the boost to my career that went with it, and definitely the boost to my self-esteem that getting back on the horse was supposed to have brought me. I felt like I was in a game of Chutes and Ladders that had way more chutes than was fair, and was somehow rigged to always drop me back to square one, every fucking time.

Instead of feeling reinvigorated to face the world again, I felt small, and insignificant, and like I just wanted to crawl into a hole, cover myself with dirt, and hope that nobody noticed I was there.

In the event, returning to work hadn’t been as bad as I’d thought it would be—when it came to the thing with Raine, anyway. I’d arrived early on Monday morning, feeling wrung out and strung out from all the crying over the previous two days, and decided not to announce myself to him. If he was in his office, he’d know where to find me when, and if, he needed me.

Sure enough, he’d emerged at 9.00 a.m., looking only moderately better than I felt, bid me good morning, and asked me to call the other guys for Confession. I’d done as he’d asked, and he’d gone back to his office, and closed the door. I hadn’t seen him again until a couple of hours after the meeting had ended, when he’d called me in to brief me on what needed to be done for the next few meetings with Carlisle.

It was all very professional and above board, but with both of us trying our damnedest to be on our best behavior, and obviously avoiding the elephant in the room like the plague, the whole thing had felt contrived and forced. We’d pushed on though, and as the days went by, it became easier to see that situation as our new normal. And really, it was how it should have been—a purely