Page 116 of Touch Me

I slept last night for the first time since she left. It’s only been three days but feels like an eternity when you can’t sleep, can’t think straight. It’s been like a seventy-two hour torture session, and I’m not sure if it was the gym or the alcohol that put me out of my misery. Probably a combination of the two.

The sound of the door buzzer pierces the air, and I jump and swivel in my chair toward the noise. My hands grip the back of the chair until my knuckles turn white and my forearms ache.

Is she here?

I told the doorman I wasn’t to be disturbed unless I gave him notice. Like the nine times I’ve ordered take out in the last three days. There’s still no way I’ve come close to replacing the calories I’ve burned. And I shut my phone off after Jess texted me for the hundredth time. I didn't open any of them. I don’t even want to see hernamein print. I stand and flex the tension out of my hands as I walk to the console in slow motion.

She wouldn’t just show up. Not after the way things ended. But what if she is here? Do I let her in? Seeing her would set me back in what little progress I’ve made since she left. I take another glance around.

What progress?

I lean over and rest my forehead on the wall, the coolness soothing to the inferno that is my blood racing through my veins. I reach out and watch as my shaky hand hovers over the button, like it’s a detonator and I’ve resigned to watch myself burn. I hold the button down. “I’m so sorry to disturb you sir—”

“Jace, I swear to god, if you don’t let me in I will torch this whole fucking building.”

Jess.

“Ma’am, please. Mr. Lancaster, I’m sorry. She wouldn’t leave. I know you didn’t want to be disturbed, but she was causing a scene.”

“It’s fine. Let her up.”

“You better let me up.” She says it quietly to the doorman. “And, uh, I was just kidding about the whole torching the building thing.”

I walk back to my desk and wipe my sweaty brow, a relief setting in like I stopped the timer on the bomb with seconds to spare. Or at least that’s what it feels like.

I’ll just act like I’m working, unaffected by the way my life has been turned inside out. Like I don’t feel like half a man that’s been run over, mangled beyond repair, and glued haphazardly back together to resemble a functioning human.

I can handle Jess. It’sherI don't want to see.

Before the elevator door fully opens, her footsteps let me know she’s halfway across the room, anger rippling out in waves. “You are a colossal fucking idiot.”

“Not now, Jess. I’m working.”

“Oh, are you? Working?” She slams her purse down on my desk and leans into my face. “And you can’t answer your phone?” She backs off when I don’t answer and looks around at the disaster that is my apartment.

Shit.

It’s not like I had any warning she was coming over. I could’ve at least picked up a little if I was going to try to sell theI’m finebit.

She turns slowly back to me and some of the fire is gone. “You’re not okay.”

“I’m totally fine. I just had a lot of work the last few days. I’ll get it cleaned up.”

I push off the desk and stand faster than I should as my body protests at the speed of my movements. My knees nearly buckle. Maybe she’ll see my slower speed as aloofness. I can be aloof if it means she’ll leave.

I grab a few containers off the dining table and move to the trash can in the kitchen, dumping the contents and looking around.What a mess.I grab the can, realizing it would be easier to take it with me, and start sweeping garbage off the counters.

Jess pushes off from her perch on the desk. “You know she didn’t do it, right?”

I pause mid sweep and close my eyes. “I really don’t want to do this right now.”

She grabs a few bottles off the table and rounds the island to toss them in the can I'm holding. “You wouldn’t be doing this at all if you had just listened to her.”

I side step around her and make for the coffee table in all its garbage-covered glory. “I did listen. Nothing she had to say changed my mind.”

She follows me, collects a few items, tosses them, and crosses her arms to look pointedly at me. “So, she told you someone hacked her email and stole the pictures? And you still kicked her out?”

I stand upright quickly, my muscle aches not even coming close to matching the pain in my chest.

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