Page 59 of Deal Breaker
I bend down and grab my dress from the floor, straightening it out as casually as I can. “Yes, she’s fine. Sorry about… that. The call.”
He stands slowly, running a hand through his hair, jaw tight. “Yeah. No problem.”
But it is.
It’s a problem.
Because now everything’s off.
He doesn’t push. Doesn’t press.
“I think I’m gonna call it,” I say, suddenly very aware that I’m still in nothing but my bra and underwear. He just watches me quietly as I slide the dress back on, tug the straps into place, avoid his eyes.
He nods once, slowly. “Yeah. Sure.”
He picks up his shirt from the floor and tugs it back on. Iopen the door, and he follows me, stepping into the hallway and then turning to face me.
“Goodnight, June,” he says, and his voice is so soft, so careful, it nearly undoes me.
I glance at him, heart aching. “Goodnight, Ford.”
He holds my gaze a second longer—eyes searching, but lips pressed shut—then turns and walks down the hall. I step back into the room, close the door behind me, and rest my back against it.
TWENTY-TWO
Ford
I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling after waking up from a restless sleep. Even hours later, my head is still full of everything that didn’t happen last night. My body is still humming from everything that did.
Landyn had brushed off the phone call, but everything changed after that. The way she slipped back into her dress and into silence like there was nothing to explain. Like it didn’t even matter.
But it did.
It does.
I can’t shake the way she looked when she came out of that bathroom. She tried to act calm and steady, but it didn’t take much effort to see past all of that. It looked like something inside her was cracking wide open.
Eventually, I throw off the covers and get dressed, then head downstairs. The hotel gym is empty, the only sound coming from the dull thud of my sneakers on the treadmill as I try to outrun my cycling thoughts.
I push harder. Faster.
Landyn’s laugh last night.
Her dress pooled at her feet.
The soft gasp when I pressed into her.
Then her phone rang and everything just…stopped.
I don’t know what that call was, but I know now without a doubt that she’s hiding something. And as much as I want to understand what it is, I can’t force her to open up to me.
After 40 minutes and a shower that doesn’t do a damn thing to cool me off, I head down to the café in the lobby, and I text her one word:
Me: Ready?
She replies a minute later.
Landyn: Meet you in five.
