Page 55 of Mark & Don't Tell

“Rude.”

“I’m happy for you,” she says as she pulls back, a true smile on her face. “But I also hate you because I’m still single.”

“You’ll find a pack,” I tell her.

She looks away. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make it about me.”

“It’s okay. I’m not going to be mad at you for sharing your feelings with me. You can be happy for me and sad at the same time.”

Nodding, she glances at me. “So, date night?”

“Wow, so you really read the messages.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who has the font set to large.” Her face grows serious. “If you want to keep things a secret, maybe try the small font.”

“Shut up,” I mutter, then frown when I remember I haven’t done laundry, and my clothing options are limited. “I don’t know what to wear. Kai asked if I was afraid of heights.”

“Maybe skip the dress? Unless you want a Marilyn Monroe moment, which honestly, I think you could make work.”

My mind is already piecing together a cute outfit that’s also practical. I really hope he doesn’t take me skydiving, but Lincoln said Kai was the adventurous one, so I have a feeling I should be prepared for anything.

“You look really happy,” Jane says, studying my face.

I shrug and pretend like it’s no big deal, when really my heart is trembling with fear of being torn apart once again.

Taking in the form-fitting jeans, paired with my black Converse, a cute, dark-blue V-neck shirt, and a lightweight black-and-white checkered button-up jacket in the mirror, I contemplate putting on my Chelsea boots to dress up the outfit some more.

Those boots were really expensive, and while they’re my favorite, I’m not about to ruin them. They’re the nicest shoes I own.

Right. My outfit isn’t little-black-dress cute, but when I texted Kai to ask if jeans were okay, he said he’d be wearing some too.

My phone chirps, and I grab it, smiling at the screen.

Kai

I figured, since it’s just us tonight, I get you all to myself in messages too.

It’s 5:56. Shouldn’t you be driving?

I’m here. By the time you get in the car, it should be 6:00.

Be right down.

I smirk to myself and grab my things, tiptoeing to the door and pressing my ear to it, listening for any sign of my landlord. The floorboard in the hall creaks, and I sigh, resting my head on the wood.

Guess I won’t be going out the front.

Quietly moving away from the door, I head to the window that leads to the fire escape. I grip the window and slowly pull it up, praying that it doesn’t squeak or groan, and much to my delight, it glides up without a single sound. Sitting on the ledge, I quickly pull myself out of my apartment and out onto the shaky metal stairs.

Is this my proudest moment? Definitely not.

My next payday isn’t for a few weeks, and while I’ve managed to avoid my landlord for a few days, I know it won’t last forever. Hopefully, he’ll take mercy on me, but I doubt it.

I clutch the railing and descend. The stairs are so obnoxiously unstable, it’s a miracle this building passed the annual inspection. My stomach drops as I take another step, which sets off a particularly violent tremble.

Next time, I’ll take my chances with John.

I take a moment to steady my breath once I hit solid ground. Tipping my head back, I look up at my window, vowing to never attempt that again, absent a real emergency.

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