Page 4 of Never Yours

I don’t add that it was the worst other than sleeping with her brother. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know I was a virgin. I faked it then, and I’ve faked it ever since. Sex just isn’t for me, I’m always better off with my toys.

Fuck, that sucks.

Just let me know when you’re coming.

To Sapphire Lake. I don’t need to know when you’re mid-orgasm.

Are you sure? I can send you video evidence of my self care.

If you insist. But know that I’ll be posting it online. It has to do better than my feet pics. Have to pay my student loans somehow!

Discreetly packing up my desk, I reply that I’m going to grab a flight out of New York tomorrow. I refuse to stay here a minute longer than absolutely necessary. I need her, I need home. Hell, I even need Caleb at this point. We used to be so close; I don’t remember the last time I had someone in my life who cared about me the way Cassidy’s family does.

I practically sprint out of the office with my belongings; my resignation letter will need to wait. Thankfully, no one stops me, but when I make it out to the street, my tears finally fall and blend with the dewy mist falling from the sky. I’ve lost everything in the space of one afternoon. For a brief moment, I let my emotions get the best of me and allow myself to cry for the first time in a decade.

Stop it! You’re Ingrid Fucking Lawrence. This will not break you.

With a deep breath I will my tears back and hail a cab, leaving behind the career I built.

But I’m taking my pride with me.

caleb

. . .

“Can you get the Rose Road property ready for me today?” Pop says into his pint.

Setting down the glass I’m drying, I excitedly ask, “It’s finally rented?” It’s been sitting empty forever, and he could use the extra income.

“Sort of,” he mutters, taking a long drink of his beer, avoiding the question he knows is coming. My cocked eyebrow is enough and he says simply, “It’s Ingrid.”

“In—” My stomach drops, and I swallow hard. “Ingrid Lawrence?”

A small smirk tugs at his lips. “Maybe.”

“She’s visiting Cass?”

“Something like that.” He takes another drink, trying to hide his amused smile. Setting down his now-empty glass, he adds, “Need the property done by tonight.”

“Tonight?” I choke, then glance over at the large wall clock. “I don’t get off for another four hours.”

“Shit, she’s supposed to be in town in two. I’ll see if Mike can do it.” Pop takes out his phone and reading glasses. He’s only forty-eight, but I swear he acts like he’s ninety sometimes, especially when it comes to technology. Explaining what a meme is to him gave Cass a good laugh. “How do you send a GIF?”

There it is.

“Give it here.” I offer my hand, and he passes me the phone. “What one do you want?”

“Is there a pussy-whipped cartoon character with heart eyes?”

I slide the phone across the bar and laugh, “You’re on your own. That ship has sailed.” That ship has not sailed, no one has ever held a candle to her.

He joins in on my laughter, but his face falls at the mention of ‘ship.’ “You just got back, Cay.” He shuts his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, his voice is strangled when he asks, “Last one?”

“Last one,” I assure him. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

As I resume hand-drying glasses, he types on his phone, then stuffs it into his back pocket. “She’ll be coming by the bar, could you give her a ride to the house?”

“What?” I cough. The bar is suddenly too small.

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