Page 46 of Curvy Love

I’m surprised when I get home and my youngest sister is not only home, but awake. She’s sitting at the dining room table working on some piece of art. She looks up when I step into the room.

“Hello, walk of shame,” she says. But then she sees my face and she drops what she’s doing and comes to me. “Oh sweetie, what happened?”

So I tell her the whole story in between my hiccups and sniffs.

“You really like this guy,” she says.

“Love him. I’m in love with him. Why do men have to do that? Just barge in and take over because they know best? That’s bullshit. All it did was prove to me that he didn’t believe I had what it took to win that grant on my own.”

She rubs my back. “I’m sure that’s not what it means. He was just trying to help. It was stupid and you should definitely tell him that.”

“I don’t think I can see him again.” I stand from the couch. “And I made him cinnamon French toast!” I stomp my foot and blow out a breath. “I’m going to take a shower, then I’m going to binge watch all of the Jurassic Park movies so I can see men get torn in half by blood thirsty dinosaurs.”

Willow’s eyes round. “Okay. I’ll make sure we have popcorn. And wine.”

I nod and march myself to the shower where I hope in vain I’ll be able to wash away his scent and the memories of his touch.

chaptereighteen

Ezra

I wake up with a smile on my face.

I reach out to find Paisley, but I’m met with only cold sheets. I sit up and search the room, but there’s no sign of her and her clothes are no longer on the floor. I pull on a pair of boxers.

“Paisley,” I call her name. I walk out into the living room and she’s not there either.

There are two coffee cups on the counter. I reach for them to find they’re cold. There’s evidence that she cooked and I find two plates of French toast in the warming drawer.

I search the rest of the house, but she’s nowhere to be found. She’s been gone a while. I pick up my phone and immediately see a message from Dan, my VP of Development. I smile when I see the news. My girl won. I can’t wait to tell her. I shoot him a quick text to let him know that I’ll deliver the news to her myself. Then I pull up Paisley’s information that I’d already stored in my phone.

Me: This is Ezra. Where did you go?

Three dots appear in the text window, then disappear, then reappear. A sense of dread settles in my stomach.

Paisley: This is Willow, Paisley’s sister. She doesn’t want to see you or talk to you.

Me: What? Why?

Paisley: She knows you rigged the contest so she would win and she’s pissed.

“Fuck!” I run my fingers through my hair.

Me: That’s not what happened.

Paisley: Talking to the wrong person.

Me: Only because you’re on her phone. Where is she?

Paisley: In the shower.

Me: Don’t let her leave. Please. I can explain everything.

Paisley: Okay. But I’m staying here to make sure you don’t hurt her anymore.

Goddammit. I hate that she’s hurting. And I hate even more that I’m the cause. Even if she doesn’t know the real story. I don’t even bother taking a shower. I just dress and head her way.

Her house is across town in an older area, but most of the two-story structures and yards are well-maintained. My GPS tells me I’ve arrived at my destination and I pull into the driveway.

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