Page 20 of Revival

“He’s come so far.” The pride in her voice is clear through the line. “But are you sure you’re okay? As excited as I am for you, I worry too.”

“I’m just a little lonely. But don’t worry about me. I know by the time I have my breakfast mimosa, I’ll be ready to dig my toes in the sand and stay for an extended visit.”

“Okay. As long as you’re sure. You know I’m always available, so don’t be afraid to pick up the phone if you need a girl chat.”

I finally feel my body relax. “I know. And I will. Say hi to everyone for me. I have to run and get ready for dinner.”

“Enjoy yourself. Love you!”

“I love you too, Frankie. Bye.”

The phone call was exactly what I needed to pull myself together. I take in the breathtaking orange of the late evening sun, steeling myself for what’s to come. Then I head to the exhibitionist shower.

Alone.

4

Spencer

At quarter to six,I knock on our door.

I could open it with my wristband, but I’m not looking to start another argument so soon. Not when we already have plenty to fight about and tensions are high. This is one battle I can surrender if it means having dinner with Cortney unscathed.

Or lessens the chances of walking away with wounds.Morewounds.

The door swings open to reveal Cortney’s cautious expression.

“We should exchange numbers,” I announce, holding up my cell. “I thought about texting you to meet me somewhere but then remembered I haven’t been granted that privilege.”

“I don’t really think that’s necessary.”

“Come on.” I prop my shoulder against the doorjamb while she gathers her purse and slips on her strappy sandals. “We’re here together for a week. I’m bound to need to communicate with you.”

“I’m stuck with you for a week,” she amends, slipping past me and out the door. “And I don’t see a reason for us to communicate beyond…” Turning to face me, she walks backward and swishes her manicured finger between us. “This.”

In two strides, I’m at her side. “I’d like a way to get ahold of you.”

“Why?”

Why? Is she serious?

“You want to go out on your own and go drinking, right?”

“I’m a big girl, Spencer.”

“What if you don’t come back one night? How am I supposed to find you?”

She cocks an eyebrow. “What if I don’t want to be found?” She stares at me, her expression issuing a challenge I don’t quite understand before she turns back around.

The pit opening beneath my sternum is one I’m unfamiliar with. I shove it down as I glare at her back.

Itryto glare at her back.

But Cortney Powell had to pick the most sexy, open-backed red dress I’ve ever fucking seen. Except for one strip of fabric hanging low across her hips, the entire thing is just bare. Smooth tan skin is exposed from her shoulders to nearly the crack of her fucking ass. And it’s short. Too short for public. Her exposed legs appear to go on for miles.

Goddamn.

“Cort.” My voice is gritty after that extended perusal.

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