Read Online False Lines (Blurred Lines Volume 7) by Breena Wilde - Free Book Online
Authors: Breena Wilde
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raisin. I climb out and wrap myself in a robe. I left my phone downstairs so I go to retrieve it. There’s a text from Jessica.
Call me. Urgent.
The way my body feels, so relaxed—there’s no way anything can be that pressing. I don’t want to call her. I don’t want to talk to anyone. These next three days are supposed to be about me.
I know she probably has a question about the party, but I also know she can handle it. Whatever she decides about my party will be fine. I’ll love it. It’ll be a ton of fun. So I turn off my phone and walk into the living room, fall back on the couch, flip on the TV, and watch old reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer .
At midnight I climb upstairs and get into bed. I don’t even set my alarm.
That’s how the next three days go. Work. Visit the cemetery. Go home and relax. I don’t see Rita those three days either. She leaves me food and sweet notes, but that’s it.
Almost as though she can sense my need for privacy.
Jessica has called many times and left me several messages. I haven’t checked them.
The strangest thing about the three days is that Cruze doesn’t call. He doesn’t even stop by the office. I’m surprised.
Thursday night after I arrive home I turn on the stereo, pull my food out of the oven—Parmesan chicken—pour a glass of white wine, and eat.
I’m halfway through the moist chicken when Jessica calls.
“Hey,” I say, steeling myself for the rampage I know is coming.
“What the fuck, Cade? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
I swallow and sigh. “I know. I’ve been busy. You’ve got me now. What’s up?”
“Ugh, like a shitload. Let’s start with the not-so-great stuff.”
“Okay,” I say carefully.
“Have you spoken to your boyfriend in the past three days?”
“No,” I say, knowing she’s talking about Cruze but only thinking of Zane.
“Well he’s been all over the news lately. Everyone’s talking about how he and his costar have been heating up the nightlife. They’ve been seen making out at parties, feeding each other at restaurants…” I hear her shudder through the phone. “All sorts of sickening shit.”
I listen, trying to gauge my thoughts. I’m a little sad, but mostly I’m glad he and Scarlett are seeing one another—because my heart belongs to another. It has for a long time, but over the past three days I’ve spent a lot of time to thinking about what I want, what I feel. And while I do care for Cruze, he isn’t the man who owns my heart.
“Cade, are you okay? I’m so sorry. That’s why I called and texted you that first night.” She exhales in frustration. “I wanted to warn you that the two of them were seen getting frisky at the Café Merlion. Someone even snapped a picture of Scarlett’s foot in Cruze’s crotch.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, and mean it.
“You sure? I mean, he’s fucking hot and, from what I can remember—”
“Oh, now you remember making out with him?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Okay, no. But have you seen him? He has to be an amazing kisser. It just seems wrong to give the up without a fight. Like I could kick that scrawny bitches ass for you.”
“Seriously, I’m okay,” I say laughing, but I’ve lost my appetite and push away the remainder of the chicken, then take a giant gulp of wine.
“Do you want me to come over? We can get drunk and talk about how all men are douchebags.”
“No, I’m fine. Really. But what about my party? Is that still on?”
“Are you fucking kidding? Of course it’s still on. I spoke with Michael, the owner of the Play Pen, about how I wanted epic and he called in a favor with the owner of Studio 45.”
“No fucking way.” The place was known for its wild, star-filled parties. Three floors of fun with a VIP upstairs. Jessica and I had always dreamed of checking the place out, but neither of us had ever been.
“Yep, so you can check that off your bucket list.” A strange noise—a
Call me. Urgent.
The way my body feels, so relaxed—there’s no way anything can be that pressing. I don’t want to call her. I don’t want to talk to anyone. These next three days are supposed to be about me.
I know she probably has a question about the party, but I also know she can handle it. Whatever she decides about my party will be fine. I’ll love it. It’ll be a ton of fun. So I turn off my phone and walk into the living room, fall back on the couch, flip on the TV, and watch old reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer .
At midnight I climb upstairs and get into bed. I don’t even set my alarm.
That’s how the next three days go. Work. Visit the cemetery. Go home and relax. I don’t see Rita those three days either. She leaves me food and sweet notes, but that’s it.
Almost as though she can sense my need for privacy.
Jessica has called many times and left me several messages. I haven’t checked them.
The strangest thing about the three days is that Cruze doesn’t call. He doesn’t even stop by the office. I’m surprised.
Thursday night after I arrive home I turn on the stereo, pull my food out of the oven—Parmesan chicken—pour a glass of white wine, and eat.
I’m halfway through the moist chicken when Jessica calls.
“Hey,” I say, steeling myself for the rampage I know is coming.
“What the fuck, Cade? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”
I swallow and sigh. “I know. I’ve been busy. You’ve got me now. What’s up?”
“Ugh, like a shitload. Let’s start with the not-so-great stuff.”
“Okay,” I say carefully.
“Have you spoken to your boyfriend in the past three days?”
“No,” I say, knowing she’s talking about Cruze but only thinking of Zane.
“Well he’s been all over the news lately. Everyone’s talking about how he and his costar have been heating up the nightlife. They’ve been seen making out at parties, feeding each other at restaurants…” I hear her shudder through the phone. “All sorts of sickening shit.”
I listen, trying to gauge my thoughts. I’m a little sad, but mostly I’m glad he and Scarlett are seeing one another—because my heart belongs to another. It has for a long time, but over the past three days I’ve spent a lot of time to thinking about what I want, what I feel. And while I do care for Cruze, he isn’t the man who owns my heart.
“Cade, are you okay? I’m so sorry. That’s why I called and texted you that first night.” She exhales in frustration. “I wanted to warn you that the two of them were seen getting frisky at the Café Merlion. Someone even snapped a picture of Scarlett’s foot in Cruze’s crotch.”
“I’m fine,” I tell her, and mean it.
“You sure? I mean, he’s fucking hot and, from what I can remember—”
“Oh, now you remember making out with him?” I ask, shaking my head.
“Okay, no. But have you seen him? He has to be an amazing kisser. It just seems wrong to give the up without a fight. Like I could kick that scrawny bitches ass for you.”
“Seriously, I’m okay,” I say laughing, but I’ve lost my appetite and push away the remainder of the chicken, then take a giant gulp of wine.
“Do you want me to come over? We can get drunk and talk about how all men are douchebags.”
“No, I’m fine. Really. But what about my party? Is that still on?”
“Are you fucking kidding? Of course it’s still on. I spoke with Michael, the owner of the Play Pen, about how I wanted epic and he called in a favor with the owner of Studio 45.”
“No fucking way.” The place was known for its wild, star-filled parties. Three floors of fun with a VIP upstairs. Jessica and I had always dreamed of checking the place out, but neither of us had ever been.
“Yep, so you can check that off your bucket list.” A strange noise—a
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