Page 125 of Wildflower
She hangs up, and I stare at my phone.
“I love you, Rey,” I say out loud for the first time, and I wish I’d at least told her that. I was too scared to say it, and now she’ll never know. “I’m sorry.”
“Hey,” a voice sounds behind me, and I turn to find Sebastian. I wipe my face and clear my throat.
“There’s no way I can listen to another dress-down, Sebastian,” I say, my voice croaky.
“You hadn’t told me you were seeing someone,” he says, his tone defiant, and I look away. “I didn’t think it was serious. It seemed you were throwing this all away for nothing. The fact that you lied about it just pissed me off so much I couldn’t think straight.” He sighs, rubbing a hand over his chin. “You’re not the only one who lost a friend, you know.” His voice is more tender now, and I meet his eye again. “Damian left us all wounded. And then I learned you told Graham first? You didn’t trust me?”
He shifts on his feet and blows out a breath.
“But I didn’t know you loved the girl, Mark.”
“Yeah, well, it’s over now.” I fling my phone down on the floor and put my head back into my hands. “Where do I go from here?” I whisper, but I don’t expect an answer from him.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
wildflower
REY
EARLIER THAT DAY
“Rey,” I hear Xander shouting from downstairs. I’ve just come out of the shower, moisturising my legs in my ensuite bathroom, and can’t make out the words that follow. But there’s something about the tone that brings a chill to my gut. I wrap my long, wet hair in a towel and throw on my favourite yellow dress.
On the chair in my room is Mark’s Cambridge Uni t-shirt that I still haven’t given back to him. I smell it and smile. I can’t wait to see him again at work, and I only left him an hour ago. My heart swells, picturing him lying in bed, smiling up at me.
“Rey!”
It sounds more urgent, so I get a move on out of my room.
“What?” I shout as I jog down the stairs, but stop halfway.
Xander stands in the hallway, peering out the window.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“There’s a bunch of reporters outside, and they’re askingfor you.” His voice is cold, and I’m struggling to make sense of it.
“Xander?” I step slowly down the last steps and touch his arm.
He turns to face me; his expression is one I’ve never seen on him. His brow is furrowed, his jaw working hard, his eyes narrowed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
“You’re all over the news, Rey. Is it true—” He stops and clears his throat. “You were never a bartender, were you?”
“What are you talking about?” I shake my head, and it dawns on me he’s somehow found out about my modelling gig and he’s reacting exactly how I feared. “I—I’m an atmosphere model, okay, I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t think you’d understand.”
He rubs his eyes. “Rey, I don’t know what to believe. Some write you’re a luxury escort. It’s very confusing, and I can’t go to work now with the fucking reporters out there.”
“What, but why are people writing about me?”
“You haven’t seen it?” he asks, finally lifting his head and looking at me, but still with that cold stare that makes my throat tighten. “You and your arsehole man are all over the internet.”
I gape at him, and he pushes his phone in my face.
And there we are. My naked back. Mark’s fierce gaze on me.
Our special moment, when I told him I love him.
