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Billionaires Runaway Bride (A Standalone British Billionaire Romance Novel) by Claire Adams (30)


Chapter Thirty

Molly

 

Sunlight danced across the ceiling. I stared up at it while I half-listened to the birds chatter outside on a tree branch. Distantly, I could hear Peyton moving about downstairs in the kitchen followed by the sound of dishes being clanged about. It had been two days since the blow up with Alfie, and I couldn’t force myself to do shit.

Get up, Molly. Get your ass out of bed. You didn’t even do this over Harry.

I couldn’t get over it though. My phone remained charging on the bedside with no phone calls or text messages. Nothing. That stung the worst more than anything else. Surely, he didn’t expect me to call! He’d be out of his fucking mind if he did. I hadn’t done anything wrong.

Footsteps approached the bedroom door a few minutes later. I tugged the blankets over my head to hide my red and splotchy face from crying all morning right as the door pushed open.

“You have to stop this,” Peyton said, exasperated. “You didn’t even do this over Harry from what you told me.”

“That’s because I expected Harry to be a prick,” I replied, burrowing deeply into the blankets. “I didn’t expect this sort of thing from Alfie.”

The mattress shifted as Peyton took a seat next to me on the bed. “He really didn’t offer any sort of explanation to why he didn’t give you credit?”

“No. Nothing. He didn’t know what to tell me when I asked him.” I poked my head out of the cover. “And the worst part is that it’s been two fucking days, and I’ve heard nothing from him. How does someone that pretends to care about you do that? What an asshole.”

Peyton sighed. “I was afraid that something like this would happen. I mean, Alfie and Harry had been good friends at one point in their lives. There has to be similarities.”

I was proud of her for not sticking me with an ‘I told you so.’ Those were getting old really fast. It’s not as if anyone had a fucking crystal ball and could honestly see the future. There was a good chance the Alfie was going to turn out to be a great guy, but not now. Any hope of fixing things between us was dwindling day by day as he decided that not calling me was better than calling and explaining himself.

“Yeah, but Alfie had beat the shit out of Harry for being an asshole,” I said, defending him, though I hated myself for doing it. “I watched him tell Harry to never come back to his estate.”

“Guys aren’t like us women. They get over things faster than we do.”

I tugged the blanket back over my head. “Maybe. I just can’t believe it though after everything that has happened.”

“I don’t know, sweetie. I wish I had the answers to make you feel better about the situation.” She rubbed my shoulder and leaned down to press her cheek against my arm. “Stop hiding from me. Pull that down. We should get drinks. Seriously.”

I obliged her and found her eyes sparkling in a familiar expression that I knew meant trouble. I started to shake my head at her as a grin spread across her lips. “No, Peyton. I mean it. We aren’t going out to get drinks. I can’t deal with that sort of thing right now.”

“How about coffee over lunch then?” she suggested, but that mischievous sparkle had yet to leave her eyes. “Oh, come on. Who gets into trouble over coffee?”

“No one does,” I replied, eyeing her with suspicion. “I just have a feeling that you have some other hidden motives behind getting me out of this bed.”

“Perhaps,” Peyton said, grinning. “Come on. Just get up and get in the shower. I refuse to let you wallow in your misery while you’re a guest in my house.”

She tugged on the blankets pointedly when I remained motionless. Letting her tug them away with a sigh, I sat up to glare at her. “Okay, fine. Just no funny business, Peyton. I’m serious. Just coffee.”

“Nothing else,” Peyton vowed by holding up a few fingers as if that meant a damn thing to me. “Now, get it up and put on something that makes you feel cute. The world is a better place to play when you feel like a million dollars.”

“Get out, and I’ll get up.” I turned my back to her and waited until I heard the door click shut. I resisted the urge to check my phone, knowing good and damn well that Alfie hadn’t called. I had the thing on an outside setting so that I could hear it ring or buzz from a mile away.

“Stop thinking about him.” I got up and huffed, knowing that there was no way in hell I was going to get him out of my mind for a while. I’d fallen in love with Harry’s best friend, and karma was kicking me in the crotch. Hell, maybe I deserved it. It sure as fuck felt like it.

“Stop thinking, and let’s go. I’m pulling muffins out of the oven. Come get yours while it’s hot. You know you like it that way,” Peyton mumbled through the crack of the door.

“So, you want me in the shower or in the kitchen?”

“I’ll take you any way I can get you, baby.” She laughed after using a deep, creepy male voice. I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Forget the shower. I’ll be at the table in the minute.” I threw on a sundress and some sandals, pulled my hair into a high ponytail, and grabbed my sunglasses for protection against anyone seeing my red eyes. “I sure as hell hope that it’s sunny today.”

 

*

 

“So? Are you feeling at least a little bit better?” Peyton handed me a chocolate from her side of the table. We’d shared a sandwich and soup at my favorite bistro and were getting ready to find something else to do. I voted on going home to sleep for the next week, but she wasn’t putting up with any of my shit.

“Actually, yeah. Thank you for lunch. That was really good.” I took the chocolate and popped it in my mouth as I let my eyes scan the bistro. It seemed like everyone was with someone. It had to be my imagination, or someone upstairs was playing a very cruel joke on me. “What’s next? Nap?”

“Nope.” Peyton stood and lifted her thin arms toward the air before bending over to the right and then the left. She yawned, and I pointed at her.

“Ha! You are tired. Come on; it’s late afternoon. Let’s go back to your place and take a nap. We’ll get up, make some dinner together and watch sappy chick flick movies.”

“I would, but I know you…you’ll sleep from now through the rest of the night, and if by some off chance I do drag your ass out of bed, you’ll cry a river during the movies. I’m not interested in watching you suffer. I already want to kill Harry and slaughter Alfie. Let’s not send me spiraling off the deep end, hm?” She gave me a crazed look.

I stood and laughed before pulling her into a hug. “Thanks for being my best friend. Maybe you’re right.”

“I’m usually right, but there’s no telling you that.” She moved toward the front door. “Let’s go walk around the mall until we get sick of it and then grab a drink at that new bar beside the house.”

“No bars. No drinks. Liquor isn’t going to help me, seriously. It’s going to force me into a deep depression that isn’t fair to you or me.” I walked behind her and pushed the door open further. “I honestly just wish I could stop thinking about him. He was perfect for me, and I thought that we were going to be together. It just seems so insanely fucked up that we’re not. Like everything I’d kinda constructed in my head over the last few weeks is a lie. It’s a bunch of bullshit nothingness.”

“That’s how love is sometimes though, right? You expect it to go one way, and it does a sharp left turn and leaves you fumbling around like an idiot in the dark.” She turned toward me as we stopped by the car. “It’s a risk, and it’s messy as hell. That’s probably why a lot of people either don’t get married, or do and then get divorced.”

“I guess.” I got into the car and leaned back, closing my eyes. It was nice to have a friend that cared, but fuck I wanted to go home and dive back into my sheets. Sleep was the only safe place for me where I didn’t have to feel such a deep level of hopelessness.

“All right. Enough of this depressing shit. Mall?”

“No. The bar sounds good. Maybe a drink will chill me out a little.” I tugged at the seatbelt as she lit up in the seat next to me.

“There’s my girl. Let’s take a few shots and dance on the tables together.” She lifted her hand in a high-five. I popped her palm with the back of my hand and turned to look out the window.

“No dancing on the tables. Just make sure I don’t go home with anyone else. I don’t need another strike on my karma card, okay?” I closed my eyes and missed whatever she mumbled. It sounded like something meant to cheer me up, but she was wasting her breath. The only thing that might drag me out of the muck I was in was a call from Alfie. Even if we didn’t get back together, I still wanted to believe that I meant enough for him to call and check on me.

“We’re here.” Peyton rubbed my leg, waking me up.

I was surprised I’d fallen asleep. “Wow. I’m so sorry.” I rubbed my eyes as I got out of the car. There was no mascara to smear seeing that I didn’t put any makeup on. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, and if I were being honest, I was trying to repel people for the night. Not that I got hit on too often at all, but just in case.

“We can go home if you want.” Peyton walked to the front of the car, and I met her there. “Seriously. I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation.”

“I’m good.” I slid my arm into hers and walked into the bar. A few guys looked our way, but for the most part, it was pretty chill.

A waitress hustled us over to a table, which was odd. I was used to going up to the bar top and ordering what I wanted. Seemed they did things a little different there.

“All right. Let’s just have a few drinks and then head back to the house. I’ll just have a beer to make sure I can still drive.” Peyton reached across the table and took my hand. “And just so you know…I think you’re far too good for any of these English pricks you keep trying to go out with.”

“Yeah?” I paused as the waiter walked up. He was a cute guy about our age in a tight t-shirt and jeans that hung low on his hips. Tattoos lined his arms, and if I wasn’t wallowing in self-pity, I might have found him attractive.

“What are you beautiful girls having tonight?”

Peyton giggled. “You?”

I rolled my eyes and turned to him. “Three shots of tequila and a beer to wash it down.”

“Need salt and limes?” His eyes moved across my face, and his tone darkened just a little. The sound of his voice should have caused my tummy to tighten, but he did nothing for me.

“Yep.” I turned back to Peyton. “You?”

“A beer.” She kept her eyes on the guy who said something else and left. She gave me a look. “He was totally flirting with you.”

“So, what. I’m done with men until I get over Alfie, and even then…I’m pretty sure I’m going to focus on my career and not my love life. They both need an overhaul, and one depends on me and the other depends on someone else. I’m done chancing things. I’ll stick to the career.”

“And you’ll end up lonely.” She lifted her eyebrow and gave me a concerned look.

“No, I won’t. I have you.” I winked and leaned back in my seat, biding my time until I could crawl back into the bed she offered me and cry myself to sleep.

Things would get better, but not just yet.

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