Chapter 9
Cassidy
Cassidy: Chinese or Thai?
Isend off a text to Channing, asking what his dinner preference would be. We returned from Cabo a few hours ago and had made plans for a late dinner, or so I thought.
I watch the message go from delivered to read, but nothing comes back in return. I try not to read too much into it, so I busy myself with unpacking. Yet, I can’t help this nagging feeling that something’s wrong.
Is he getting cold feet? Was Cabo really a one-week type of thing even after he claimed it wasn’t.
God, I’m going to drive myself crazy.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial Hayley, calling for some of her wisdom to put my mind at ease.
“Please tell me you’re not calling from a post-orgasm haze.”
Of course, that’s where her mind would go. She was practically salivating when I told her we were going to give it a try. “Unfortunately, not. Channing hasn’t been responding to my messages,” I say, plopping down on my couch with two unopened containers of Thai food. “Has Brooks heard from him tonight?”
“Let me ask.” I hear her shuffle around “Have you heard from Channing?” I hear her whisper through the phone, followed by a demanding urge to hand the phone over.
“Cass?” Brooks’ voice books through the phone. “What did that asshole do now?”
For someone who’s best friends with Channing, you would think there’d be less hostility, yet I know how protective Brooks can be. Regardless of whether it’s his friend or not.
“Calm down. He didn’t do anything.” Besides giving me some life-changing orgasms, then ghost me. “He was supposed to come over tonight after he dropped his stuff off at his place. Yet, I texted him, and I haven’t heard back from him.”
There is a beat of silence before a grunt of frustration. “Bastard’s running.” I hear him grumble under his breath. “I’m sorry, Cass. This is just what he does.”
“What do you mean?”
“He has commitment issues. He talks a good game, but when he has to commit, he runs.”
“But we agreed to take things slow,” I say, on the verge of tears. This is all my fault… I pushed, and he ran. But not before taking what he needed and more.
Brooks lets out a strangled breath. “I’m going to kill him when I get a hold of him,” he says, before handing the phone back to Hayley.
“Are you going to be okay? Do I need to come over?” she asks with genuine concern.
It figures this would be my luck. This shouldn’t surprise me. My fiancé cheated on me, and the guy I lusted over for years hits it and quits it… Again. I’m destined to be alone. I should just accept my fate and get a cat or two. Become the crazy cat lady the universe is so obviously pushing me toward.
Yup, that’s it. I’m going to get a cat and become a crazy cat lady.
“Cass—”
Shit, Hayley’s still on the phone. What were we talking about? Right—Channing ghosting me, her coming over to help heal my broken heart.
“It’s okay. I’ll be fine,” I squeak out before she so hastily decides for me.
“Okay. But you’ll call me the instant you need me?”
“Yes, Mom.”
She lets out a little laugh. “I’m serious. I worry about you. This is a lot of heartbreak for one person to go through.”
She’s right, but I’ve learned God would never give me anything more than I can handle. And if it’s dealing with heartbreak after kissing a few frogs, then so be it.
“Yes. I’ll call if I need anything,” I say, ready to crawl into bed and drown in my own tears. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the arena.”
She finally agrees and hangs up after she’s happily satisfied that I won’t drown myself in the bathtub. Giving up on my hope that Channing will show, I store the uneaten containers in the fridge and pad down the hall to my bedroom. Pulling back the cover on the queen-size bed, I climb in still in the clothes from the flight home and pull the cover up over my head.
So, I may not be drowning myself in my bathtub, but I will wallow in my self-pity from the comfort of my own bed. And tomorrow, when I see Channing at the practice arena? Well, he’ll get an earful from me.