Page 73 of Heartfelt Pain
“Now is fine,” Max says.
Lennie stands up. At Elijah’s frown, she shrugs. “What? Did you not see it earlier? It’s three tiered and smelled so fucking good.”
Russ and Max are already up the stairs but I grab Lennie’s shoulder. Elijah shoots me a pointed look in warning.
“What happened with Ren?” I ask.
She hesitates. “Nothing.”
I know she thinks she’s being a good friend, protecting her secrets. There’s pounding in my chest. I’m at a kid's birthday party so I tamper down the beast. The one increasingly frustrated by Ren’s lack of texting back.
Elijah follows his girlfriend upstairs, but when I’m halfway up I find Russ.
“I forgot my phone.”
“It’s in your hand.”
She tightens her grip on it. Before she whirls away, she quietly says, “You should check on, Ren.”
One of Trevino’s men acts as the doorman in Ren’s building. He eyes me up but doesn’t stop me from going up. It’s a good enough sign.
Almost every night this week, Trevino and his men, have had the pleasure of seeing me crawling to Ren. I don’t like to think about what state they see me in when I leave.
Ren’s grown to be a vicious little thing and I love it while simultaneously needing more.
I’m not interested in skulking in at night after she texts me. I want the privilege of showing up whenever I want.
And tonight I’m not in the mood for waiting for a come hither text.
Every single message I’ve sent has gone unanswered. She didn’t pick up when I called.
Something’s wrong and I’m going to figure it out. I don’t give a fuck if she thinks her bratty attitude is going to save her.
She takes a full minute to answer the door when I knock. I listen to her feet behind the door like she’s debating.
“Ren.”
She must hear the warning in my voice because the door opens. She’s got on the tiniest pair of lacy shorts and a silk camisole.
I suck in a breath, taking in every inch of her.
Rolling her eyes, she turns away, opening the door wider. “Why are you here?”
“You haven’t answered any of my texts.”
I throw my jacket on the end of her couch. There’s a pile of shoes right by the doorway and the trash is overflowing.I’m not clinical like Max, but it surprises me how messy she lets the place get. Ren’s not a neat freak, but she’s not lazy either.
She puts hours into her appearance. It surprised me the first time I slept over and her alarm went off at five in the morning. She sat up, checking her phone before showering.
I’m not saying Ren didn’t care about her appearance when I first met her, but she’s robotic in her morning routine. Her underwear costs more than her entire wardrobe did when she first moved to the city.
She’s fucking gorgeous, but the Ren I knew, hit snooze three times before dragging herself out of bed.
The TV is off and the living room is dark. I step over a pile of her clothes on the floor.
“Ren,” I prompt when she doesn’t answer. “Why aren’t you answering my texts?”
“I’m not in the mood.” She heads for her bedroom. “Go away, Roma.”
