One of Those Faces (25)

Maybe I had turned off the lights before leaving.





CHAPTER TEN


“Harper!”

The strangled scream startled me awake. My eyes opened, and I was staring down at my hands pressing against Erin’s shoulders, her eyes wide.

She pushed against me, and I fell down on the bed. “What the fuck?” she screamed. She sat up and rubbed her arms. “What are you doing, you psycho!”

I rolled to my side. “I—what happened?”

She inched away from me on the bed. “Were you asleep?”

I raised a hand to my forehead.

“I woke up and you were on top of me! You almost choked me!” Her voice was piercing.

I propped myself up on my elbow. It was light outside. “Sorry, I—” My wrists ached. “I don’t know what happened.”

“I told you what happened. God, what’s wrong with you?”

I ran a hand over my face. My thoughts were hazy, like I was still asleep. “I’m sorry.”

She glared at me, resting her head against the wall. “Why am I here anyway?” She glanced around the apartment, her upper lip slightly raised when she saw the growing tower of dishes in the sink.

“You got drunk at the Up Room, and I came to get you.”

Her anger subsided. “Oh.” She frowned. “Iann called you?”

I nodded, massaging my searing wrists. “Yeah. What happened last night?”

She shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. “You remember Jeremy? Well, he’s an asshole.”

I waited for more, but she just closed her eyes. “What did he do?” Do you really care?

She took a long, deep breath before turning to me. “Do you think I’m shallow?” She looked close to tears.

Yes. “No,” I said in a hurry. “Why? Did he say that to you?”

“Yeah, he made it clear last night that he thinks I’m a shallow idiot.” She pushed her hair away from her eyes, smudging her day-old mascara around the edges. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” Her eyes suddenly widened. “So, how did Iann have your phone number?” she asked with a grin.

Dammit. I looked away.

“Oh my god! Are you seeing him?”

“No.” I groaned. She was so loud. Maybe she was still a little drunk. “We ran into each other the other day. Nothing more than that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, sure. He’s a cool guy, though.”

“How would you know? You just met him too.”

She glanced down quickly, and her smile weakened. “Yeah, but I can tell.”

I fiddled with the edge of the blanket in my hands. “I don’t know why he’s even interested in me.”

She stared at me, tugging at a strand of stray hair on my shoulder. “You’re a mess, Harper,” she said. “Guys like girls like you.”

“Like me?”

She nodded. “Yeah, beautiful and damaged. They want to try to fix you. And when that doesn’t work, they move on.” Her matter-of-fact tone pissed me off. “Hell, that’s probably the only reason I still hang out with you. Trying to help you makes me feel better about all the crazy shit I do.”

My fists hurt from gripping the blanket so tightly.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She poised herself on the edge of the bed, casting a wary look at Woodstock hunched on the kitchen counter facing her.

“Towels are by the toilet,” I said, sinking back into the sheets.

She stood up, bracing her arm against the wall as she staggered to the bathroom.

I turned on my side, toward the window and door. My eyes drifted to the floor, and I shot up to my feet. There were faint shoe prints leading to and from the door and around the edge of the bed. They were big, bigger than mine, and clearly not made by Erin’s high heels. I followed them around the corner of the bed, where they stopped. I looked at the door again. It was locked.

They must’ve been from Iann when he came inside last night, right? I stared down at the shoe prints until Erin emerged from the bathroom nearly thirty minutes later. She walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Do you want to grab some breakfast? I’m starving,” she said, closing it with a slam. She was wearing the same short dress from the night before, her wet cropped hair hovering just above the neckline.

I crossed my toe over one of the shoe prints, smudging it along the warped wood floor. “No, I really need to start working.” My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I reached to grab it. It was from a blocked number. My heart started racing.

You don’t know that it’s him.

I rejected it, and it immediately started buzzing again.

“Okay,” Erin said with a shrug. She grabbed her heels from the floor and walked past me to the door.

I followed behind her. “Are you going to be okay—about Jeremy?”

“Oh yeah, screw that guy.” She unlocked the door and turned the knob.

“But you seemed really upset about it,” I said quietly.

She hesitated but didn’t turn around. “It’s fine. I’m over it.” She glanced at me, now with a smile. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

I nodded. I watched her stumble down the first couple of steps and then closed the door. I faced the tracks of mud again. My foot was small beside them. I stepped over the dirt and unlocked my phone. There were no messages. Why was I disappointed? Shit, what if Erin was right? Maybe I did want Iann to text me. But maybe he’d already realized I was a lost cause and given up.