I slide my legs over the side of the bed and sit up, trying my best to ignore the throbbing in my temples.
I stride through the house with purpose, but her purse is gone, along with her shoes that had been by the front door, and a look out the window confirms that her car is gone as well.
She left me.
Adley has a thing or two to learn about girlfriend etiquette. I’m sure as hell not the one to teach her, because I know nothing about relationships, but even I know you don’t share a moment like we did last night and walk away the next morning.
For years, I’ve been telling myself I’ll end up like my parents. I’ve used that excuse to keep distance between Adley and me, but that isn’t fair to her. She wants more, deserves more. It’s clear I can’t stay away from her, so if this is what she wants—if this is the next step between us—I owe it to both of us to try.
I want to try.
Turning around, I go in search of my phone, but stop short when I see a note, a bottle of water, and three ibuprofen sitting on the kitchen counter.
In one swig, I down the medicine and grab the note.
I plugged your phone in by the microwave. It was dead. Take this medicine and drink the entire bottle of water. It should make you feel better.
That’s it. No Sorry I had to run, or I’ll call you later. She didn’t even sign the damn note.
I unplug my phone from the charger and lean a hip against the kitchen counter as I pull up Adley’s number.
“Hey there,” she answers, a little too chipper for my sour mood.
“Where the hell are you?”
There’s a pause and then Adley says, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“Yes, I heard you, but I don’t like the tone of your voice.”
“Well, I don’t like it when my girlfriend runs out on me.”
“Oh, is that what I am now, your girlfriend? Last night you weren’t sure you wanted one, and now you’ve labeled me as such?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and take a deep breath. “Where are you?” I ask again.
“Home.”
“Don’t leave.”
“Linc—”
Ending the call, I shove my phone in my pocket and grab my keys and wallet. If we’re going to have this conversation, it’s going to be face to face. Not over the damn phone.
Thanks to some back roads and a lead foot, I pull up to Adley’s house in less than an hour.
Adley never gave me a key to her place, so I have no choice but to knock on the front door and wait for her to answer.
“Open up.” I bang a second time, and when Adley pulls the door open, she looks pissed.
I’m good with that, though, because a pissed Adley is a sexy Adley. She probably wants to slam the door in my face after the way I talked to her on the phone, but I don’t give her the chance.
Her eyes widen when I shove my way inside.
Her house is small. Two bedrooms and a bathroom with an open floor plan for the kitchen and living room. Her parents own it. It used to be a rental property, but when her brothers got into college, they took their turns living here, and now it?
?s been passed down to Adley.