Page 270 of When We Fall: Part Two
Rosalie: Let’s just do the show. I work tomorrow.
Anson: Sounds good. Want me to pick you up at the hotel?
Rosalie: No. I’m not there anymore. I’ll meet you.
I frowned at that information.Where the hell was she?It made me feel even shittier that I didn’t know. I’d wait to ask her, though.
Anson: Sounds good. See you at eight.
Rosalie: Perfect.
I drummed my fingers on my thigh for a moment before sending the next message.
Anson: I’m excited. It’s been too long.
Rosalie: Me too :)
I smiled at that. Everything was OK.
I looked at my watch,frowning. It was fifteen minutes after eight, and Rosalie was late. For as long as I’ve known her, she was never late to a damn thing, and if she were going to be, she’d reach out to me.
I pulled my phone out, ready to call her, when she rushed up beside me.
“Hey,” I said, taking her in. Beautiful as always, her curls cascading around her, and a pretty black dress on that flared at her waist, and her high-heeled black booties in place.
“Hey. Sorry. I-I got sidetracked on something.”
I frowned and reached out instinctively and pushed her curls back to see that she’d tried to cover a hickey with makeup whereher neck met her shoulder. While hidden, it still managed to peek through the makeup she’d applied over it.
My blood ran cold as I let my hand fall away.
“Who’s the guy?” I asked tightly.
“Oh, um, just someone I met at work.”
I raised my brows at that, trying to keep my irritation at bay. “Like a line cook or busboy?”
She bristled at my words. “Don’t be a jerk, Ani.”
“Is he?”
“No,” she muttered. “He works in finance. He comes in for coffee sometimes.”
“Is it serious?” I pressed, really fucking hoping she told me no.
“It’s just for fun. No strings attached.”
I blinked at that. There was no fucking way she had a friend with benefits. That wasn’t how my LeeLee was.
I snorted, making her frown deepen.
“You’re just randomly getting laid? Is that what you’re telling me?”
She scowled. “What’s wrong with you? You asked me to hang out. I-I thought it would be fun, not twenty questions?—”
“Are you having sex with this guy?” I pressed.
“Yes.”
