Ten Days of Perfect (November Blue #1)(75)

“Hey,” Adrian called gently.

When I looked up, I saw him lift my suitcase and a bag onto the bed.

“How did you . . .” I paced toward my things.

“When I brought Bo back to his house he had me wait so he could get your things . . .” Adrian shrugged uncomfortably.

“Adrian, I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I need to call Monica to come pick me up. I need to call my boss to tell her about everything. . .” Dissolution of the relationship . . .

Adrian sat next to me and put his arm around my bare, wet shoulder, “I’ll call Monica. I’ll just give her the basics and tell her that you’ll fill her in in the morning. I’ll take you home, but you need to get some sleep first. About your boss, Bo said he was heading inside to call David Bryson to tell him about the blackmail. David and Monica will fill your boss in. Don’t worry about it tonight.

“Just like that . . .” I whispered.

“What?” Adrian lifted my chin.

“Nothing . . . I’ll get dressed. Sleep sounds divine, I’m sore as hell.”

“Here’s some ibuprofen, take it.” Adrian handed me the pills and a glass of water. “You’re tough shit, November Harris, I’ve never seen anyone so . . .”

“Pissed?” I laughed as I swallowed the pills.

“Yeah, pissed. Look, I’m sorry about what happened with Bo, I can tell how much you mean to each other.” He pulled me in for a hug.

“Meant. And, I’m sorry you had to witness all of that.” I spoke weakly into his chest.

“It was intense, that’s for sure. But, I’m glad to know you can hold your own, Blue, that was something.”

I stood to bring my clothes to the bathroom, but Adrian excused himself to the hallway so I’d have privacy and he could make phone calls. As I gave in to sleep, I could hear Adrian’s muffled voice in the hallway, “Hey Monica, it’s Adrian . . . yes, Adrian Turner. Look, something happened tonight. No don’t freak out, everyone’s ok for the most part . . .”

*

I woke early, thankful for a dreamless sleep. Stretching out in bed I could feel the pain of last night in every muscle of my body and soul. When I sat up on my elbows I smiled at the sight of Adrian Turner sleeping in the desk chair. His head rested at an awkward angle against the wall, and his arms folded in front of him. The crinkle of the comforter as I swung my legs over the bed startled him awake.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“How’d you sleep?”

He rubbed his neck. “Great, actually. Turns out being chased, and trying to kick someone’s ass really takes something out of you. Why didn’t you sleep in the bed?”

“OK, Ember, you break up with your boyfriend and I slide in to bed with you that night? I’ll pass on going straight to Hell, thanks,” he laughed as he stood.

Adrian knew me too well; I’d be so pissed if I woke up this morning next to him.

“Can we get the hell out of here?” I pulled my Princeton hoodie over my head, “or do you have all kinds of DROP shit to attend to today?”

“I’m taking a personal day. So, yes, let’s go . . . Do you want to talk about last night?”

“Adrian, have I ever wanted to talk about any last night?” I smirked.

He stifled a chuckle, “I’m serious. That was some heavy shit . . .”

“I know . . . and I’m not ready to think about it again, yet. Can we get the hell out of here?”

The truth is, all I’d done since I woke up was think about it. I thought about love, loss, betrayal and pain. Bo trampled my trust, and I still couldn’t piece it all together in my brain. I couldn’t look at him anymore; not the same way I did that first night at Finnegan’s. It was all different now. None of it could be taken back. Adrian caught my pensive stare at the wall and proceeded to load our things in to his car.

I thumbed through my phone as Adrian started his car and pulled down Main Street. I had a text from Monica that she sent last night:

Monica: Ember, I talked to Adrian. Get sleep, I’ll be at your apartment waiting for you tomorrow.



I had an email from my boss:

November,

I received a call and email from David Bryson very early this morning. I also spoke with Bo. Take the week off and call me when you can. I’m sorry all of this happened. –Carrie.



Finally, there was a text from Bo:

Bowan: I know you’ll ignore me if I call, and I don’t dare try to see you in person right now. I love you November. When I said forever, I meant it. I’ll never stop loving you. Please forgive me. Forgive me.



Sleep didn’t erase the emotional pain, and I bit my lip as I slid my phone back in to my bag.

“Hey, what’s in that bag?” I asked Adrian, noting a paper gift-bag on top of my suitcase.

Adrian shrugged, “Bo said it’s yours - that you never opened the card. If you want me to take it-”

“No,” I interrupted, “I’ll just open it . . .” I hesitated as I ran my thumb under the seal.

The square card held a CD. I gestured to Adrian to put the CD in his player as I read the note Bo wrote:

November Blue,

You’ve given me the most perfect ten days that anyone could ever dream of having. I love you more each day, and plan to love you more for however many days I have left on this Earth.