Page 186 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I
“I’m here,” I say with a fluttering sigh.
“We can pick you up later in the day if you want.” I can hear in his voice how insistent he is about me facing my old team at some point tomorrow.
“Hercules?” I whisper.
“What is it, babe—I mean, Paisley?”
Him referring to me as “babe” sounds so appropriate, so meant to be. And that’s why I can so easily confess, “I’m too embarrassed to face them. I betrayed them, you know?”
“Ah, I see… Believe me, there are worse things in the world than what you did. But don’t worry. I’ll be with you, sitting right next to you.”
And just like that, the thought of facing the group doesn’t scare me so much. “Okay,” I whisper. I want to kiss him so desperately that my insides ache. “See you at nine, then?”
The sound of his breaths presses against my ear as we wait in silence.
“Okay, then,” he finally whispers.
“Okay.”
More silence.
“Good night, Paisley.”
“Good night, Hercules.”
Seconds pass, and at the bottom of his third breath, I reluctantly end our call.
2:36 a.m.
As I continue my efforts to fall asleep, I toss back and forth, hardly finding any comfort. I can’t stop thinking about Hercules. I’m fighting the urge to call him back. Screw the girl code. I want to propose that we break all rules of decency just once and bang each other’s brains out.
My groan shivers in the blackout darkness. I can’t do that. Nope. I will not knowingly have sex with an engaged man. Because karma is a five-letter word that starts with ab.
Then what’s disturbing me so much?
Each one of my old team members’ faces come to mind. Soon, I’ll have to see them.What will I say?
I flop onto my back and look up at the ceiling. I yawn and try to come up with some options. But I’m too exhausted to strategize. But I think I should say…
6:29 a.m.
What’s that sound?
My eyes pop open, and daylight stings my retinas. Every morning at six o’clock, my blackout curtains are timed to rise. But I feel like I fell asleep only an hour ago. I grumble as I flip over, extending my arm to silence my cell phone. It can’t be seven thirty yet.
Squeezing my device in my hand, I realize it’s not my alarm that’s buzzing. My phone is ringing. I blink at the name on the screen. It’s Lake.
I tap the answer button. “Hello,” I say as I yawn.
“Have you seenTop Rag Magthis morning?” I can hardly hear her over what sounds like a drill or something.
“What time is it?” I sigh.
“Six thirty.” She sounds sprightly.
My eyes close as my brain battles against my will to wake up more so that I can engage in this strange conversation.
“What’s that noise?” I ask.
