Dirty Deeds (Irresistible 3) - Page 85

“Holy crap, you are cynical. Can I get you more wine?”

“No, Evie. We have work in seven hours and we can’t be hung over.”

“Then will you please just look at this video of a dog cradling a baby? My mom just posted it on my wall and it’s making my ovaries do things.”

“Fine,” I snorted.

And for the rest of the night, I watched animal videos with Evie on Facebook. When Mike was done with the game, he came in to sleep and we did a little exchange. He and Evie set out sheets and pillows on the couch to make it like my cozy little bed, and as they slept, I lay awake and stared sleeplessly into the dark room.

I did that for about thirty minutes before grabbing my phone and looking for entertainment on my apps. But I’d just explored every last corner of Instagram with Evie, and I didn’t have Twitter, Snapchat or Facebook, so I –

Wait.

Well. I did have Facebook but I’d deactivated in college. It was basically now just a time capsule of the person I was right after that one year in boarding school – right after I’d moved away from Emmett, and right before I’d met my darling Evie.

It was probably a terrible idea, but before I knew it, I was navigating to that blue homepage I’d gone so long without seeing. After trying to figure out Facebook on mobile without downloading the app – because that would make my bad decision far too real – I reactivated my old account.

Holy shit.

I must’ve looked crazy with the glow of my phone illuminating my wide eyes in that dark room. But I couldn’t help my instantly voracious scrolling, because it was suddenly hundreds of names I hadn’t seen in a decade, and so many pictures of faces that looked familiar yet completely different.

“Oh my God.”

Timmy Whitman had a kid now. Whaaat? Daniela Valenti totally did end up dancing for the New York City Ballet. Not surprising – still amazing. Rochelle Sumner was married, of course, and Erica Janney was now Erica Janney-Coleman because apparently she’d married Matty Coleman? Which meant he was straight?

What the fuck was the world?

“This is crazy,” I whispered aloud, covering my mouth to suppress my giggles because I was actually having way too much fun. I didn’t even care when I’d accidentally liked a few pictures I hadn’t meant to because there was so much going on, and so much to be distracted by.

It wasn’t till I got to my messages that my smile fell because I noticed Emmett’s name at the top of my inbox. The message was unread and judging from the date, it was from the week after his dad’s funeral.

My heart thumped.

Fuck.

I stared at the screen, my throat already closing up. No. I couldn’t do this right now. I couldn’t feel that storm of love and empathy for him again, because it hurt too much. It had hit me multiple times in the past few weeks, but it never ended in anything but me remembering that I couldn’t look at Emmett the same again. That I couldn’t keep doing this to myself – leaving him behind then returning only, only to leave once again.

Neither of our hearts were equipped for another round of this. I was sure of it.

So without thinking, I slid my phone across the floor, watching its glow travel halfway to the kitchen. It sat there for a minute, casting a blue light onto the ceiling that made me think of Emmett.

But finally, it shut off and after another hour of lying awake on that couch, I did the same.

36

ALY

I was on my fourth cup of coffee by noon the next day, but I reasoned that I deserved and needed it since I was scheduled to close at my other job tonight. That meant I’d be up for another fourteen hours at least, so despite Evie’s look of concern as I headed for the coffee machine, I went for it.

“I’m guessing your other job doesn’t require a steady hand?” she snorted as she watched me down another eight ounces of pure caffeine.

“Oh, it totally does, but it’s more important for me to be awake there than it is for me to steady,” I said, though that was definitely a lie. My boss almost sent me home during one of my fi

rst few nights of shakiness. I wasn’t caffeine-loaded, I was just nervous and when I shattered a martini glass in front of VIP guests, she told me to get my shit together or go home.

Another bad decision in the books! I thought as I continued chugging my coffee.

I wasn’t usually so jovial when I thought about my poor life choices, but this was basically me in do or die mode. I had to smile to try to convince myself that I wasn’t slowly dying inside despite the poor sleep, the nonstop work and the never-ending thoughts about Emmett.

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