Page 60 of The One
A place he shouldn’t be?
I thought about a conversation we’d had at work not too long ago, when he told me about the woman he’d met at the strip club the night of the bachelor and bachelorette party.
That motherfucker was going back for round two—I would bet my life on it.
“Are you at the fucking strip club?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and ended the call.
Trista
She’s at a bar, sitting at the bar top, having what looks like a vodka tonic.
Me
Who’s she with?
Trista
She’s alone.
Fuck.
I glanced down at the top of Daisy’s head; she’d been asleep on my chest for a couple of hours now. I wouldn’t wake her up, nor could I exactly bring her to a bar. Although I’d probably have a better chance of Lainey talking to me if I showed up with a cutie like Daisy.
Me
Let me know if she leaves.
As I hit Send, I almost regretted it.
Because if Trista told me a guy joined Lainey or bought her a drink, I’d fucking lose it.
And if she told me she went home with one?
Shit.
I wouldn’t be able to control my jealousy.
A jealousy that would turn to rage.
FOURTEEN
Lainey
Fifteen Years Ago
As I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my bedroom, my cell began to ring from the back pocket of my jeans. Penelope’s name was on the screen, so I answered and brought it up to my ear.
“Hello—”
“Where are you?”
I glanced toward Rhett as he sat on the end of my bed. “Home. But only for a couple more seconds. We’re leaving?—”
“You’re coming here, right?”
“Coming where?”
