“Trust me, I won’t be.” But even to my ears, that doesn’t sound half as convincing as it should.
“Stella is coming over to babysit you while I’m gone.”
“I am perfectly capable of watching myself.”
“Try that again,” he shoots me a look and I answer with a glare. Exton turns toward the bedroom when I swear, I hear him mumble,“It just had to be her, didn’t it…”
A few minutes later he comes back out all dressed and ready.
“Be a good girl while I’m gone.” He boops my nose and I’m way too tempted to bite his finger off, but he’s gone before I can.
For the next hour before Stella gets here, I busy myself with my book, phone, TV and whatever else, just like I used to do before Exton crashed into my life but as I mindlessly flip over the pages I realize my life has never felt so empty.
Damn you, Axe…damn you.
“Electra, your phone is ringing,” Stella hollers from the kitchen, and my eyes slide to my bedside table where my phone is still lying.
“That’s not mine,” I call out but three seconds later Stella is thrusting a black iPhone into my hands.
“I don’t care who’s it is, answer it and tell them to stop calling. They are interrupting my cooking mood.”
“And you couldn’t do the same becauseeee?”
“It’s not my phone.”
I give her my bestare you serious right now?face but she’s already walking out, back toward her favorite place in my house. You’d never think that stern woman loves to cook as much as she does, but for Stella it’s a whole religion and whoever this is that’s been blowing up Exton’s phone that he clearly forgot is getting on her shit list.
I stare at the screen, my lips twisting when I see just the number flashing on the screen.
It could be spam or telemarketer or something like that but they have already called at least five times so it must be something important. Or it could be a girl…maybe one he went to see?
Is that what his quick errant was about?
Six or seven hours…that’s one hell of a date…or fuck.
I squeeze the phone in my fist, my irritation growing by a second. But whether it’s with me for feeling irrationally angry or with whoever doesn’t get the memo that Exton is not going to pick up is yet to be determined.
So what if he went to get off with someone? He’s a healthy man, he needs sex. Why should I be angry about it?
No, I’m not jealous. That would be fucking ridiculous. He’s no one to me and it’s not like he could ever have it with me…even if he and I wanted to. And it wouldn’t be polite to answer his calls…
Yet my small pep talk only makes me feel worse. As do the continuous calls. Screw polite, I need to hear the voice of a woman he chose.
With a little too much force, I slide the bar right. “Hello?” I say as soon as I pick up the call but there is a beat of silence on the other end.
Is it just a prank or something?
“Hello?” I repeat, and this time someone on the other end clears his throat, the deep sound taking me by surprise and my irrational thoughts vanish just like that.
Um, sonota woman…you are an idiot, Electra Monroe, and you need help. So much fucking help.
“Oh, hello.” It’s a man and based on his voice he’s older too. “May I speak to Exton Quinn? Or do I have the wrong number?” He sounds professional and my interest spikes.
Come to think of it, I’ve heard his phone ringing a few times over the past week and every time it’s not Sava calling, he frowns at the screen, flipping it over and ignores the call.
Who is this? My eyebrows pull together, but I fix my hostile tone. “This is Exton’s phone. He just left it at home.”
Home…home?Jesus, Electra.