Read Online Chance (The One More Night Series) by Christina Ross - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Christina Ross
Ads: Link
had happened last night, I’d never texted either of them, which was a cardinal rule not to be broken. I dug into my purse and retrieved my phone. And sure enough, there were several texts from each of them.
Texting wasn’t an option now—they were likely asleep. So I called Elle, who answered on the third ring.
“Where are you?” she said. Her voice wasn’t drowsy as if I’d just woken her up—instead, it was as sharp as it was hot. “Why haven’t you called? We’ve been worried sick about you. I was giving it another hour before I called the police.”
She was angry as hell, and she had every right to be. I’d never done anything like this before, but that didn’t excuse me from following the rules Elle had set into place when all of us first moved to Manhattan. If any of us didn’t plan on making it home at night, for whatever reason, then we called or texted at least one person in the group so everyone’s mind would be at ease for the rest of the night. I hadn’t done that. I felt terrible about it, and I fully took the blame.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking—I should have called. Or texted. But I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t even think of it. I swear I didn’t, not that that’s an excuse. It isn’t. I’m an idiot.”
“Abby, you always come home. Brooke and I were frightened out of our minds for you. You never don't come home after work. So, where have you been? Why didn’t you call?” She paused for a moment, and then her voice trailed off. I knew her well enough to know that she was thinking this through and putting together pieces of a puzzle that would nail me against a wall.
And then she spoke. “What do you mean that you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even think to call? What does that mean? What have you been up to? Better yet, let’s just get down to it. Who were you with last night?”
“Get the coffee on,” I said. “I was going to walk home, but screw it—my feet still hurt from last night’s shift. I’m splurging on a cab and I’ll be home soon. Then I’ll share my evening with you.”
“You slept with someone, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please—I can smell it. So admit it.”
“I’m admitting nothing now.”
“So, you did sleep with someone. You finally did it. You got your mother out of your head, and you gave it up for the better good of all of us. Thank God.”
A jogger dashed in front of me, and I couldn’t help but smile at Elle’s comment. Finally, she and Brooke had gotten what they wanted—me free enough to let myself go. “The coffee,” I said. “Put it on. Give me fifteen minutes to get home, and then I’ll tell you what happened. OK?”
“Brooke will kill me if I wake her from her beauty sleep.”
“I thought she stayed up with you.”
“She did, but then I told her that I’d stand watch. She went to bed about an hour ago. But don’t worry. By the time you get here, we’ll both be ready to hear all about your sordid little evening, even if I have to slap Brooke around a bit just to get her to wake up. You know how impossible she is when it comes to getting her sleep, but I’ll handle her. And then we’ll handle you. See you in fifteen, cookie. In the meantime, gird your loins, because you’re moving straight into the biggest Q&A of your life.”
CHAPTER NINE
When the cab driver dropped me in front of our pathetic, two-bedroom walk-up apartment on Prince Street, I glanced up at the five-story building through the cab’s open window, and felt the same way I generally felt whenever I looked at it—depressed. Suicidal. On the verge of tears.
And in need of new shoes, which tended to fix everything.
We lived on the fifth floor,
Texting wasn’t an option now—they were likely asleep. So I called Elle, who answered on the third ring.
“Where are you?” she said. Her voice wasn’t drowsy as if I’d just woken her up—instead, it was as sharp as it was hot. “Why haven’t you called? We’ve been worried sick about you. I was giving it another hour before I called the police.”
She was angry as hell, and she had every right to be. I’d never done anything like this before, but that didn’t excuse me from following the rules Elle had set into place when all of us first moved to Manhattan. If any of us didn’t plan on making it home at night, for whatever reason, then we called or texted at least one person in the group so everyone’s mind would be at ease for the rest of the night. I hadn’t done that. I felt terrible about it, and I fully took the blame.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t know what I was thinking—I should have called. Or texted. But I was so caught up in the moment, I didn’t even think of it. I swear I didn’t, not that that’s an excuse. It isn’t. I’m an idiot.”
“Abby, you always come home. Brooke and I were frightened out of our minds for you. You never don't come home after work. So, where have you been? Why didn’t you call?” She paused for a moment, and then her voice trailed off. I knew her well enough to know that she was thinking this through and putting together pieces of a puzzle that would nail me against a wall.
And then she spoke. “What do you mean that you were so caught up in the moment that you didn’t even think to call? What does that mean? What have you been up to? Better yet, let’s just get down to it. Who were you with last night?”
“Get the coffee on,” I said. “I was going to walk home, but screw it—my feet still hurt from last night’s shift. I’m splurging on a cab and I’ll be home soon. Then I’ll share my evening with you.”
“You slept with someone, didn’t you?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, please—I can smell it. So admit it.”
“I’m admitting nothing now.”
“So, you did sleep with someone. You finally did it. You got your mother out of your head, and you gave it up for the better good of all of us. Thank God.”
A jogger dashed in front of me, and I couldn’t help but smile at Elle’s comment. Finally, she and Brooke had gotten what they wanted—me free enough to let myself go. “The coffee,” I said. “Put it on. Give me fifteen minutes to get home, and then I’ll tell you what happened. OK?”
“Brooke will kill me if I wake her from her beauty sleep.”
“I thought she stayed up with you.”
“She did, but then I told her that I’d stand watch. She went to bed about an hour ago. But don’t worry. By the time you get here, we’ll both be ready to hear all about your sordid little evening, even if I have to slap Brooke around a bit just to get her to wake up. You know how impossible she is when it comes to getting her sleep, but I’ll handle her. And then we’ll handle you. See you in fifteen, cookie. In the meantime, gird your loins, because you’re moving straight into the biggest Q&A of your life.”
CHAPTER NINE
When the cab driver dropped me in front of our pathetic, two-bedroom walk-up apartment on Prince Street, I glanced up at the five-story building through the cab’s open window, and felt the same way I generally felt whenever I looked at it—depressed. Suicidal. On the verge of tears.
And in need of new shoes, which tended to fix everything.
We lived on the fifth floor,
Similar Books
