Page 139 of The Bad Wedding Date

I threw an arm over my eyes, blocking them out, but Ray quickly ripped it away, forcing them all back into focus.

He pointed a finger at my face. “Remember who the fuck you are.”

Without saying another word, he stood and turned to the guys behind him. With one gesture of his head, they all followed him across the hotel suite and out of the door, not giving me a second glance.

That was the power of a man of few words.

Everybody listened when he finally had something to say.

Everybody, including me.

46

Charlotte

Time held no meaning anymore.

I had no idea what day it was, relying on Jonah’s texts to remind me of when my shifts at work were after I’d phoned Jean to tell her I had finally recovered from my fake illness. I’d needed the distraction, and nothing kept my mind off my own reality more than surrounding myself with the elderly. They had no time for the dramatics of life. Every day had become precious to them, and they had no problem reminding people like me how important it was to let the little stuff go.

I’d tried to wedge Fraser firmly in the category of ‘the little stuff’, only that big idiot refused to stay there, and he infiltrated my thoughts at every imaginable moment.

Not even swimming could help me escape the memory of him.

He’d ruined that for me, too.

Jonah: You’re on shift at six in the morning. I’ll see you there.

The two of us were still navigating our friendship after everything that had happened. I loved him dearly, and he loved me in return, but something had shifted. He wanted me to see shades of grey when the only colours I saw were black and white. Right and wrong. Truth and lies. My mind had been turned to mush. I longed for the return of my old simple life.

At least that’s what I tried to tell myself.

Did it make me a hypocrite if I was more than happy to lie to myself yet demand nothing but the truth from everyone else?

Fuck.

I checked my phone to see it was only 8:00 p.m. on a Thursday night, and I had already finished my second glass of wine. One more, and I’d head to bed to at least try to sleep before that 5:00 a.m. alarm went off the next morning.

Curling my legs out from beneath me, I opened the wine and began to refill my glass, just as a knock at the door echoed through the apartment.

I froze, the bottle mid-air, staring at the door as if looking at it would reveal who was on the other side. We might have called Penn out, but that didn’t mean I felt entirely safe since those strangers had been inside my apartment.

Another knock, and I stood, pulling down the sleeves of my pyjamas as I padded over to the door to look through the peephole. I hadn’t expected to see Fraser staring back at me, his hands resting on either side of the doorframe.

Fraser,my mind whispered, my heart suddenly waking up and racing at even the smallest of glimpses of him.

I pressed my fingertips to the door and let my head fall, trying to control my breathing. I couldn’t open it. I couldn’t let him in. I shouldn’t… but my hand moved regardless of those thoughts, and when I turned the handle, opened the door, and looked up to see him standing there, I hitched in a breath that caught in my throat.

He looked a mess.

His usual flawless appearance had gone. His hair stood up, sprouting out in every direction. His skin had turned paler since I’d last seen him. There were no pressed trousers or shirts in sight. Instead, he wore torn grey jeans, a white T-shirt that hung off his body, and a casual black bomber jacket.

He swallowed at the sight of me, his bloodshot eyes trailing up and down my pyjama-clad body as though I stood there in high-end lingerie. He drank every inch of me in, and I’d never felt as adored or scared by one look before.

He had the power to bring me to my knees, and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

“You look…”

“Broken, I know,” he said quietly, staring at me without apology.

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