“I know you are. Now spill.”
I look at her questioningly, and she glares at me. It’s a stare-down, and I know I’m likely going to lose. She looks from my face down to the phone in my hand and back again.
“You’ve been waiting for him to call all day, haven’t you?”
“I have not,” I lie—unconvincingly, I might add.
Daphne throws her hands up in the air and makes some godawful noise.
“I can’t help it,” I protest. “He’s famous and I’m…I’m just me. The laws of reality dictate that we shouldn’t be together, and I can’t help but wonder if he was only with me because I was here and helped him pass the time.”
“Oh, Kimmy, why do you sell yourself short? Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? Don’t even answer that because I’m going to answer it for you. You’re beautiful, inside and out, and when we’re together every guy is always looking at you.”
“Yet you’re the one who comes away with phone numbers.”
“That’s because I always promise to bring you along!”
I roll my eyes and look down at my phone again. I’m starting to hate the thing.
“If he’s even a smidge like the way you make him sound, he’ll call. The dude is probably sleeping.”
“He’s working. At least I think he is, because that’s what he said. But how long is a work session in the music world?”
“Days.”
Great. It may be days before I hear from him again? I don’t know if I can be in a relationship like that.
—
I lie in bed, asking myself how I could be so foolish as to trust Bodhi. I should’ve known this wasn’t going to work out. He’s famous and enjoying life, while I’m here working on a ranch that treats people with addictions. I’m too plain for his lifestyle.
My eyes close and I wish for sleep. I wish for happy dreams and a tomorrow filled with sun and happiness. And when I hear my phone ring, it takes me a second to realize it’s physically ringing and not part of my subconscious.
“Hello?” I answer so quickly I don’t even glance at the caller ID.
“Hey, babe, did I wake you?”
Sitting up quickly, I smack my head against my headboard and let out a cry.
“Kimberly, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I grit out between my teeth as I rub the back of my head. “I’m fine.”
“Sorry it’s so late.”
“It’s okay.” I pause, wonderi
ng if it really is okay or if I’m just saying so because I want to hear his voice. Is this what life is going to be like, me waiting up until the early hours of the morning for a phone call?
“Actually…”
“Tell me,” he prompts.
Sighing, I open my mouth to let the word vomit destroy my life. “I’m pissed that you’ve waited until now to call me. I thought—”
“You thought what?” he interrupts. “That I was out partying?” I can hear hurt in his voice. “Listen, Kim. I’m trying here, I am. I’ve never met a woman I cared enough about to call and talk to. But you’re that woman. I have no reason to lie to you, none whatsoever. I said I’d call when I got done and I did.”
“You just got done with work?”