Page 27 of The Likelihood Of You

But as I’m running my Plan B through my mind, his head bounces back up, his smile still in place.

“I’d love to.” He laughs, pushing off the door frame and standing upright, adding another inch or three to his height. “Let me grab my things, and I’ll meet you out back in two.” He nods his head towards the back exit door. “Sound good?”

No, not good. If this situation were good, I wouldn’t have the urge to run away and forget this conversation ever happened. I wouldn't be swimming in guilt and shame and every other feeling that was fighting for my attention.

I want to correct him, but all I can manage to do is tug on my bottom lip with my teeth and give him a pathetic little nod. Which I’m realising probably makes me look a bit eager and silly, but I can’t dwell on that right now.

As Jacob closes his dressing room door, leaving me standing on the other side like a child outside their parent’s bedroom at 3:00 AM, the only thing swirling around my brain was why I told myself Jacob was the one I needed to help me.

It shocked me that my heart had the strength to drop and tumble and flip for him, when, not too long ago, it was barely pumping blood around my body. And all of a sudden, it was now ready to leap and show off for him?

Why was I not listening to that little voice of reason? It was the evacuation siren, and I should have been using it as a lullaby. Reminding me that this, crushing on a boy and relying on them to do the dirty work to get where I wanted to be, was something I’d tried and tested once before, and look how that worked out for me.

What the fuck are you doing Florence?I asked myself.

I go to raise my fist to knock on Jacob’s door, to tell him I’ve changed my mind, but as I do, it opens, revealing the answer as to why I’d asked him to do this in the first place.

“Ready to go?”

I'm being a stupid, gullible, hopeless romantic, single, twenty-four-year-old woman like I'd promised a certain someone I'd be in this city, I replied to myself.

“I’m ready.”

Chapter ten

Jacob

“Jacob, do you know how long it took me to set up this interview? It’s withAllure,for fucks sake. What are you thinking?”

I honestly didn’t know what I was thinking.

This was probably the only time Charlie had been within his right to collar me about skipping something. The time before this, I’d twisted my ankle, and he berated me for missing a photo shoot withPeople Magazine. Something like that I couldn’t help, but this…bailing on a bucket list interview with a stellar brand for Florence was something I should have thought twice about.

The only issue was that I didn’t want to.

I watch Florence from where I’m standing by one of the windows as she locks her front door and goes to hang her jacket on the hook behind it, before turning to look out the window to speak to Charlie.

“I know. I’m just not feeling great, Charlie. Tell them I’m really sorry.” I said, my tone hushed so Florence couldn’t hearme.

“I just saw you an hour ago, and you were fine.” He rushes out, and I can tell he’s not buying it.

“I don’t know, man, I just know I won’t focus with this…migraine.”

Charlie lets out a breath, and I can bet on the fact he’s pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s a fucking good thing I like you, Jacob. Otherwise, I’d have bailed on your ass a long time ago. I’ll deal withAllure, just get better, and we’ll speak soon.” His voice had gone flat, like he was too frustrated to fight me.

“Thanks, Charlie, I owe you man.”

He lets out a gruff laugh, the kind that gives away his age and the fact he smokes like a chimney. “Later, Jacob.”

I pull my phone away from my ear, ignoring the two missed call notifications from an unknown number that had bothered me earlier, and slide it into my back pocket, before taking a deep breath and trying not to let the fact I’m standing in Flo’s apartment cause an actual migraine.

I’ll admit, the whole time she was talking to me earlier, asking me if I’d help her tonight, I couldn’t shake away the feeling that this felt right. Her being so close to me, gazing at me with those gemstone eyes, teasing her and noticing how her smile peeked through her serious face more than she probably realised. Something about it made all the day’s stress melt away like a popsicle in August heat.

It was only when she welcomed me into her apartment that I began to question whether saying yes was the right thing to do.

My feet swivel my body around, allowing me to take in the ground floor of her apartment. Once my eyes hopped over the cream couch, studied the contents of the piles of books that took up the floor just left of her T.V. and admired the emeraldbacksplash in her tiny kitchen, I realised that Florence wasn’t down here anymore. I take a step forward and tilt my head, scanning the spiral staircase leading to her balcony-style bedroom. My eyes ping-ponged from one side of the room to the other, but I couldn’t see her.

“Florence?” I called out, a veil of concern in my voice. A couple of seconds go by, and there’s no reply. My heart slips into second gear.

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