Chapter 22 Bailey #2
“Why? Did you need something?”
My head snapped up to meet her gaze, and what I saw chilled me to the bone.
She was pissed at me.
And she was never pissed at me.
As she shoved the door open, I rushed inside, desperate to get away from the man tailing us through the apartment.
“I’ll just check things out, and then I’ll be on my way.”
As he disappeared down the hall, Cheyenne raised an eyebrow at me, pursing her lips in that way that only Cheyenne could, killing me with that one look.
“I—”
“It’s all clear,” Archer said as he strolled back down the hall. “Don’t forget to lock up behind me.”
As soon as he was out the door, Cheyenne flipped the lock.
“It’s not what you think,” I said, cutting off any thoughts running through her head.
“Oh, it’s not?” she asked, spinning around. “So, you didn’t fall into his arms and fawn all over him? Don’t you already have a man?”
I flinched back at the scathing tone, but reminded myself that we were both drunk.
“Cheyenne, I’m not interested. If anything, Archer makes me uneasy. There’s something unsettling about him.”
“Then tell me why you couldn’t pull yourself away from him?” she snarled.
“Because—because he freaked me out!”
She barked out a laugh, then stormed down the hall to her room. “Poor, Bailey! Can’t hold onto her man, so she has to go after all the rest of the available men in town!”
The walls vibrated with the slamming of her door.
Sinking down on the couch, I buried my face in my hands, wishing I could start this whole day over.
And I’d start by never going to the hospital to pick up Liam.
Cheyenne stumbled through my door at six o’clock. Her hair was piled on her head in a ratty mess that was held together only by the hairspray from last night.
“Oh, God,” she moaned, holding her head as she fell onto my bed. “I think I said some really horrible things last night.”
Stuffing my face into my pillow, I blocked out as much light as I could. “’S okay.”
“No, it’s not. God, I’m a mean drunk.”
I slid my hand along the sheets until I found her hand under the comforter. “I still love you.”
“I don’t know why.”
“Sure you do. You let me borrow your boots.”
“Yeah, well…” Lifting her head, she adjusted herself until she was laying on her side, snuggled up to my other pillow. “We’re not wearing boots again anytime soon.”
“Aside from when you wear them to work.”
“Well, aside from that. I need a massive break from drinking.”
“It was one night,” I reminded her.
“Yeah, but I don’t mix well with alcohol.”
“No one does.”
Rolling over, I squinted at the bright light. “Well, at least it’s Saturday. We can stay home and watch movies.”
“Not you. You have to work.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me.”
“Don’t you want to see Liam?”
Just hearing his name sent butterflies swarming in my stomach. Yes, I wanted to see him. Desperately. I wanted to feel his arms around me and feel his lips on mine.
But after what happened yesterday, I wasn’t sure that was a good idea.
“I’m not sure he wants to see me.”
“Well, you’re not going to find out by hanging around here,” she muttered.
“I know, but…”
“But what?”
I didn’t want to admit my insecurities—That maybe Liam didn’t want me anymore. It was crazy. I’d been with him less than a week and I was already thinking about what might happen, how it might all fall apart.
But how else could I explain his mood yesterday?
“You’re not going to get any answers by avoiding him. Besides, it’s a new day. He had a shit time the day before, and then he had to sleep at the hospital. Who wouldn’t be grouchy?”
“I know, but—”
“No buts. If you want answers, go ask the right questions.”
“But what are the right questions? Isn’t it too soon for all this?”
“If it were any other couple, I might say yes, but this is you and Liam. You’ve been destined for each other since the dawn of time.”
“Third grade,” I corrected.
“Go over there after work and just be your normal self. Don’t worry about anything else. If he’s still pissy, ask him what his problem is. It’s really that easy.”
“And if he says he doesn’t want to see me?”
“Girl, are you really worried about that?”
The question came out comically, but I could see the concern in her eyes.
She was right, I couldn’t go over there thinking the worst would happen. I was being silly and acting like a girl.
“You’re right,” I laughed. “He had a bad day, and I’m completely overreacting.”
“See? I knew you’d come to your senses. Now, help me up and into the shower before I puke all over your bed.”
I was out of bed before she could even finish the sentence. I knew exactly how Cheyenne got when she wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to be the one to clean up the mess.
After getting her in the shower, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and sat down at the kitchen counter, going through bills. I did everything possible to clear my head of the negative thoughts refusing to leave me, but nothing could distract me.
“Ugh,” I grumbled to myself. “Just call him and get it over with.”
I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, not giving myself a chance to change my mind.
But when he didn’t answer, that doubt came creeping back into my mind.
“This is ridiculous. I don’t have time to sit around and worry about a man.”
Tossing the phone down, I quickly got dressed, forgoing my shower in a desperate need to get to work and shake off these horrible feelings.
The day dragged with easy repairs, giving my mind way too much time to think about Liam. I battled with myself about whether or not I should go to his house after work. I argued every point I could think of, and yet, uncertainty still swarmed me.
For some reason, I knew that if I went out there, it would mean the end of us.
“Fuck it,” I said, hanging up my coveralls. “If it’s the end, then it’s the end.”
“Talking to yourself?” Wyatt asked, watching me from the break room door.
“Just angry at myself.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Since when do you care?” I snapped, my anger taking over good sense.
If he was surprised by my outrage, he said nothing about it.
“Sorry,” I muttered, shaking off my bad mood as best I could.
But he just shrugged and headed back into his office. “See you Monday.”
“Yeah.”
I couldn’t go on like this. My normal peppy personality had taken a major hit in the span of a week. Either Liam was going to explain why he was ghosting me, or he could damn well get over his mantrum and behave like a normal person.
As I drove out to his house, I prayed he chose the second option.