Wherever It Leads(13)

She flounces across the room and plops on my bed. The backboard hits the wall as she rearranges the pillows and makes herself comfortable.

“I’m going to get out of this dress.” I disappear into my closet and slip out of the dress and into a robe that I use when I’m not feeling well. I have a feeling after I process all of this, I may not be the best I’ve ever been. My head is still in a fog, still reeling over the way Fenton looked at me. It’s as if my brain has a timer and every four-point-six seconds a recollection of his smirk or his laugh will fire through my mind. And then reality hits that I was there with him and he asked me to go away and I said no.

Pure. Frustration.

When I return to my room, Presley’s tucked under my yellow comforter.

“Comfy?” I ask, sitting on the edge of the bed. She doesn’t answer me, so I glance over my shoulder. She’s watching the lights below us twinkle through the window. It’s a perk of living on a hill overlooking a valley.

“How did you end up with the better room? The feng shui is so much better in here.”

“Because you had a mini-meltdown about the sun coming in and waking you in the mornings, remember? So because I have to get up and go to work every day, I took this room.”

“Oh. Yeah. Good point,” she grimaces. “Mornings aren’t my thing.”

“We know.”

I climb up the mattress and lie beside my best friend. She seems completely at ease, but I recognize the glimmer in her eyes. I could just bring it up, say Fenton’s name, and she’d pick up the topic and run with it. But I don’t because I’m not even sure how I feel about it. I know how I should feel about it.

After a long while, Presley can’t take it anymore. “So . . .”

“So . . .”

“Damn it, Brynne. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh, my friend, there is. There most certainly is.”

I sag against the mountainous stack of pillows behind my head. A deep tear of uncertainty sits squarely on my shoulders. I expected as the night wore on that I would either feel good about my decision or would regret it on an epic level. I don’t feel either way.

“Why couldn’t I have lost my phone in the bananas?” She squirms around until she’s sitting up. “If I did, some old man with a receding hairline would’ve found it! Not a freaking cover model.” Her long hair swishes side to side as she shakes her head. “But no, you have to lose it and have Mr. Orgasm find it. You, of all people. You, the one that won’t reap the benefits of your luck!”

“Pres . . .”

“This is the universe trying to repay you for all the shit it’s thrown at you. Think about it. Karma just tossed the sexiest man I’ve ever feasted my eyes on, and I’ve seen some cute guys in my time, your way. He. Wants. You. If karma had fingers, she’d have put a bow on it.”

A depressed sigh escapes my lips. “I really do have to work, for one thing. And for two, it’s the way he propositioned me. It’s not that I don’t want him,” I groan. “It’s . . . he offered me money, Presley.”

“Can’t you just look at it like he knows you’ll be missing work and he’s just trying to be a nice guy? I mean, was he a dick during dinner? Was he ever rude or condescending?”

“No.”

“See?” she exclaims, her eyes lighting up. “You probably just mentioned that you were saving for school or something, so he feels bad about taking you away from work. And money isn’t an issue for him . . .”

My head whips to the side. Guilt is heavy on her face. “What did you do?”

“I just called Nick, my daddy’s security guy, and had him run a check on Fenton.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Do you really think I was going to let you scamper off not knowing anything about him at all? Come on, Brynne.”

I don’t want to ask what Nick found, but I’m way too curious not to. “Well?”

“He just did a quick check because I caught him in the middle of something . . . and it wasn’t me going on the date, no offense,” she cringes, “But Fenton owns Ruma—”

“He owns the restaurant?” I gulp. I knew he was loaded, or I assumed that, anyway, but Ruma is the hottest place in the city. That’s big.

“Yup. I didn’t know that either. Apparently he’s a silent partner or something. But he owns that, is a shareholder in a Vegas casino, and something else. Maybe a fishing boat?”

“A fishing boat?” I laugh.

She giggles. “I may not have been paying a lot of attention after Nick said he was clear. But the point of the matter is that he has a completely clean record. There’s nothing but good marks or whatever on his record, so he’s safe.”

“Safe. Right.”

Presley wrestles around in the sheets until she’s on her side and facing me. She presses her lips together. “You can feel good about this. He’s . . . your rebound.”

“I don’t want a rebound, P.”

“Everyone needs a rebound. And you haven’t really done much of anything since Grant. You need a good fling to ease you back into the dating world again. And what better way to do that than to get bent with Fent?”