Page 23 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
She gasps. “I know what happened. They must’ve fallen out when he had to slam on his brakes and our purses fell on the floor.”
My heart races. “He’s probably read them. He’s read my thoughts. My thoughts abouthim.”
She finishes a bite of her bagel sandwich. “They were good, right?” she asks with a smirk.
“Candi.” I bug my eyes out at her. “They’re my raw, unedited private thoughts, about him. They’re basically a fantasy I scribbled on paper until I create a story around them.” The sinking feeling in my stomach makes me stop eating. “Oh no. This is bad. This is so bad. I can’t face him. Not knowing what he’s read.”
“You don’t know that he read them.”
“He said he wanted to read my work before we do the interview. Of course he read them.”
“You have no proof of that.”
I blow a puff of air out my mouth. “I’ll call my mom to fill her in and let her know to expect his call. Then I’ll text him her number. I’ll have fulfilled my part of our deal and I can just walk away.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“You don’t even want to talk to him?”
“No,” I bark. It comes out harsher than I mean it to. “Honestly, what do I say to him? Hey, thanks for feeding my fantasies, I hope you don’t mind that I got off while writing about your tongue dancing across my flesh? Ugh.” I sigh. “I can’t believe he read the intimate things I wrote about him.”
“I still say you don’t know that for a fact. I think you should respond to him.”
As the words come out of her mouth, my phone chimes again.
Nicco:I’d like to get your pages back to you and set up our interview.
I stare at the message.
“What’d he say?”
I look up from my phone. “He wants to give me my pages and set up our interview.”
Candi’s shoulders drop. “Des. Just as much as you’re giving him a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make his dreams come true, he could very well be giving you the same chance for your life.” She reaches her hand across the table, placing it on top of mine. “Don’t miss out on this.” There’s a pleading behind her eyes.
“I promise to seriously consider it.”
“You better.” She winks at me.
We finish our breakfast and I drive us to her studio.
When she gets out, she shouts, “Call him! I love you!” and blows me a kiss.
I wave, blow her a kiss, and head home. Call him, huh? I have no idea what to even say. Do I come right out and ask him if he read my pages? He could easily lie and I won’t even be able to see his face to see if he’s lying. Do I ignore the whole thing? Ugh, I’m beyond frustrated.
I drive mindlessly along Pacific Coast Highway toward home, creating different scenarios in my head of how awful the conversation will go. I do want my pages back. They were the start of something I felt inspired to write and I haven’t felt inspired in so long. I settle on meeting up with him to get my pages, give him Mom’s phone number, and release him from our deal.
I call Mom to brief her on Nicco and his desire to come to Hollywood.
“Hi, my birthday girl. How was your night out with Candi?”
“Oh, you know. Drinking, dancing, very Candi. I did have fun though.”
“Good, I’m glad you had fun. Are you still coming over tonight for your birthday dinner?”
“Yup, I am. I’m just calling quickly because I have a favor to ask you.”
