Free Midnight Heat (Firework Girls #2) by J. L. White

Ashley was the first one I ran to when Brad called things off. My Firework Girls came and cried with me and got me to laugh and feel like things would be okay, in the end.
    But in that moment, I couldn’t begin to put into words what happened and what I was feeling and I didn’t want to try. I just wanted to go to bed and sleep. For a month.
    “It was a night of sex and it was great but now it’s over and I want to go to bed. I haven’t slept a wink.”
    I got to my door and glanced back over my shoulder to see if Ashley was ready to let things lie. She was grinning again. “Wait until Sam hears about this.”
    “Don’t,” I said strongly, before I could stop myself.
    I turned and Ashley was still grinning, but giving me a puzzled expression. “Why not?”
    “Look, I—” I sighed. God, I was just so tired. “Thank you for getting me through my Not Wedding night,” I said. “You too, Bella. But can we please, please not talk about it again? I just want to move on, okay?”
    “Okay,” Isabella said. “I understand.”
    Ashley nodded but I avoided her eyes. It felt like she was still scrutinizing me.
    “Okay,” she said. “Well, since I know you’re okay, I’m going to head back.”
    “Sorry for not answering my phone.”
    “It’s okay,” she said giving me a hug. “I’ll text you when I get there.”
    I pulled it together enough to smile before she left. I said goodbye to both her and Isabella and then she was gone and that was it.
    I was standing alone in the middle of my apartment with the smell of Grayson on my skin and the memory of him all around me.
    I wondered what he was doing in that moment. I wondered how he reacted when he came out of the shower to find me gone. This is something I’ve wondered many, many times in the months since.
    I pulled my phone from my pocket and checked for a text from him before remembering he didn’t have my number and I didn’t have his. Of course there were no messages from him, only Ashley’s increasingly frantic texts that morning and a few from Isabella begging me to text Ashley before she called the police.
    I dropped my phone on the couch and didn’t bother plugging it in to charge even though the battery was almost dead. I walked back to my bedroom. I wondered if Grayson was eating French toast anyway. Without me.
    Just like he’d go on with the rest of his life. Without me.
    It’s for the best, I thought, and collapsed on my bed fully dressed. I didn’t allow myself to cry.
    In fact, I have never once allowed myself to cry for Grayson Piers.
    As I’ve said, I had to be strong.

Chapter 8
     
    The waiter has cleared away our platters, but we’re in no hurry to leave. The girls and I are chatting happily when I get a text from my brother.
    Bobby: Almost there.
    Me: Okay. We’re in the Sandbar finishing up appetizers and cocktails. You’re welcome to join us if you like.
    I don’t get an answer back and take to checking the open patio doors that lead toward the lobby.
    A minute later someone I know does walk through the doors. But it isn’t Bobby.
    Walking smoothly onto the patio, his eyes sweep the area like he’s looking for someone. His eyes land for a moment on Sam. There’s a brief flicker of recognition, but then he sees me and instantly stops short.
    Grayson.
    I don’t think my heart is beating anymore. I know I’m not breathing. I’m confronted with such a confusing array of emotions I feel physically slapped.
    I can’t move at all. He looks as shocked as I feel. There’s a sudden sharpness in his eyes. Anger. And it’s directed right at me. Oh god.
    There’s this moment when I’m torn between wanting to run away in horror after what I did to him, and wanting to launch myself into his arms and beg him to forgive me.
    This is what happens in the next moment.
    Sam glances toward the door and says, “Oh, there he is!”
    It happens in slow motion and is as confusing and disorienting as a dream. Sam hops out of her chair. His