I ran a hand over my head. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” he said.
“Don’t let it go to your head.” Then I picked up the phone and pressed Maddie’s number in my speed dial list.
ChapterFourteen
Maddie
“Ican’t believe her!” Mallory said, staring at me in disbelief. “What the actual hell?”
We were sitting on my bed with two glasses and a bottle of wine. I finished off my first glass of rosé and poured myself another.
“She hates me, Mal.”
“Then she’s an idiot because everybody loves you.”
“Martin Schroeder didn’t like me. He was rude when I picked him up for his Uber ride.”
“Martin Schroeder was a pedophile, so that’s probably a good thing.”
“I guess you’re right.” But I started to cry again anyway.
“And where the hell is Detective Americano?” she asked, picking up on Chrissy’s nickname for Noah.
“I told you that he didn’t condone it. He was horrified and upset on my behalf. He threatened to end dinner early, but I told him we should stay. And when I left after dinner, he wanted to walk me out, but I told him no.” My throat tightened at the memory of the devastation on his face. “He was really upset, Mal. He stood up for me. This isn’t his fault.”
Mallory leaned back and crossed her arms, still holding her half-full wine glass. “That doesn’t answer my question, now does it?”
I swiped a tear from my cheek. “He sent me a text profusely apologizing.”
“Atext?” She sat upright, sloshing wine on the sleeve of her sweater. “A fucking text?”
“He said he’ll call when he calms down.”
“Whenhecalms down?”
“Quit repeating everything I say.” I took a gulp of wine. “It’s not helping.”
She rolled to her side, set her wine glass on my nightstand, and pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked in a panic.
She started tapping furiously on her phone. “I’m texting Noah’s cohort.”
“Why? He wasn’t there.”
“Because those two are like two peas in a pod,” she said, looking up with an expression of reproach. “Not to mention Lance is nosy as hell. He’ll know what’s going on.” She gestured to her phone. “And there it is. Noah’s at Lance’s apartment.”
My brow shot up. “Where’s his mom?”
“Hell if I know, but I doubt she’s hanging out at Lance’s.”
I sat back against my pillows. “He left her at his house.”
“Why isn’t hehere?” she demanded.
That was an excellent question and a scary one at that. Was he mulling over all the points his mother had made about me? Or was he staying away because I’d told him I wanted some time to myself? Knowing Noah, it was the latter. “I told him I couldn’t deal with it right now. He’s probably giving me space.”