Exes and O's (The Influencer, #2)(102)

“Thanks, Lucy,” I squeak, eager for silence and serenity after a long-ass day, a symptom of living alone since undergrad.

She lingers, running a finger over the edge of the quilt. I get the feeling she wants to stay and chat. As much as I love girl talk, making conversation with a peppy stranger is the last thing I want to do right now. When I yawn and stretch my arms theatrically over my head, she gets the hint, stands, and wishes me a good night.

The moment the door closes, I commence my skin-care routine, strip my travel clothes for my pajamas, and slide into bed. The mattress squeaks with the tiniest movement. It’s so firm, it feels as though I’ve draped myself directly over a box spring and called it a day. Chance of sleep tonight: near zilch. Then again, it’s preferable to the alternative—my rental car.

Upon checking my phone, I hardly have any Instagram notifications from the travel story I posted earlier. In fact, I’m at the point now where every time I post, I lose followers instead of gaining them. Great. I’m becoming more irrelevant by the minute.

With that cheerful thought, I promptly close the app with a heavy sigh and fire off a How are you? text to Julian, followed by a brief explanation that I’ll be staying an extra week. I brace myself for upset, but he simply responds with a selfie of him, smiling, thumbs-up, in my kitchen making a frozen pizza. It comforts me knowing he’s having an okay day, despite my leaving.

When I plug my phone into the charger and close my eyes, Lucy and Evan’s conversation is semi-audible from downstairs.

“What kind of people would we be if we tossed her onto the street?” Lucy asks.

“That’s beside the point and you know it.” The rest of Evan’s response is muffled. The stomp of his heavy footsteps is the last thing I hear before I drift off to sleep.