Page 18 of The One I Hate
“So, Bug, this is it. This is the end. You clearly don’t want to see me, and you know what? I don’t want to see you, either. Okay, that’s a lie. I do. I want to see you really bad. I’m in Nashville tonight. The Omni. Room 1614. If you’re in Nashville, I want to see you. I want to say I’m sorry for being mean today. And to see your pretty face. But you probably don’t want to see me, which I understand. Not really. I miss you, Bug. Okay, I’m going to hang?—”
The message abruptly stops and I look up to Mellie, completely speechless.
“Charlie…”
I shake my head. “No. He said some nice things, but he doesn’t mean them.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because Simon Banks is the same asshole today he was fifteen years ago. He says some nice shit, but in the end, he doesn’t mean any of it. You even heard at the beginning of the message. He lied. He said he lied. And he’s blaming me for leaving and not admitting to his part at all.”
“Then go confront him.”
Excuse me, what did she say?
“You want me to what?”
“Go to his hotel. He just said in the message he’s in town. And the Omni is only two blocks away. Go and see him. Get your answers. Shut the door on this chapter forever.”
I start to protest, but I don’t.
Can I? Can I just walk into this man’s hotel and demand answers as to why he did what he did? Part of me says I can’t. But the tequila says I can. And when has tequila ever caused someone to make a bad decision?
Chapter 5
Simon
Banging on the door jolts me away from sweet oblivion.
Or maybe it’s the banging in my head. I’m honestly not sure at this point.
How long was I even out?
“Just leave it at the door,” I yell. I need the food; I’m just not sure I can walk right now to get it.
There’s just one problem: The pounding on the door doesn’t stop.
“Fucking stop!”
I don’t care who I wake up at this point. I just need it to stop.
I roll out of bed, literally, and fall to the ground.Fuck.It doesn’t hurt now, but I’m sure I’m going to feel it in the morning.
Or maybe I’ll just have a headache from the incessant drubbing on the door that’s now getting louder and faster.
“Fuck,” I groan as I pick myself up and stumble to the door. When I finally figure out how to turn a doorknob, I open the door to see Charlie holding my food.
Wait, what?
“Bug?”
Charlie storms in my room, leaving me confused as I look out the door, then back to her. “Are you my DoorDasher?”
She drops the food on the table and whips back to me with a look that could kill.
It’s fucking hot.
“No, I’m not your DoorDasher. I just took it from him when I realized we were heading to the same room.”
