CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

                                    

                                          
BLAIRE
                          
                   
                          
It was late when I got home from my shift at Cross Meadows. Every light in the apartment was on, but Paige was nowhere to be found as I came through the front door. Music trickled out from her bedroom, along with the stench of nail polish. I kicked off my shoes at the front door and headed to the kitchen to pour myself a large glass of the wine Paige kept stocked in the fridge for days like today. I started toward the couch and checked my email before resorting to checking my Facebook again. I knew all I'd do was look at that stupid picture of Jason and Marla I'd seen earlier, comparing her sex-kitten features to mine in my head.
                          
Ugh, I didn't want to, but it was like driving past a car accident—you couldn't stop yourself from looking. 
                          
And there it was, time stamped from being posted earlier tonight. While I'd been busting my ass taking care of old people and thinking about our date from the night before, he'd been living it up in Coldcreek with Marla. Nice. I pursed my lips together and tapped on the messages area, ready to reread his message from earlier.
                          
Hope you had sweet dreams last night, I sure did. But I noticed one thing...I don't have your number. Seems like that would be a little better way to get in contact with you than through Facebook. Don't you think?
                          
Seriously? The time between when the picture of him and Marla had been posted and when he'd sent me the message hadn't been very long. Not even forty minutes. Was he thinking of me while he'd been feeling Marla Danes up? I tapped back to the picture of the two of them. Yeah, thinking of me while he was sitting with her in his lap was highly unlikely.
                          
"Oh, you're home," Paige said. She came down the hall with her fingers all splayed out and walking on her heels with her toes up in the air. "I was just gonna text you and see if you could pick up a movie on your way home."
                          
"Too late," I said. I took a small sip of the wine I'd poured and clicked my phone off.
                          
"Wine after ten?" She came and sat beside me on the couch. "Tonight must have been a rough night."
                          
"Oh, it was."
                          
"What happened? You don't smell like poop."
                          
I laughed. "Well, at least I have that going for me. I didn't get crapped on tonight, at least not my clothes. I did, however, manage to nearly get punched though. A few times."
                          
"Awesome," Paige joked. "I swear, your job is so freaking entertaining. Never a dull moment."
                          
"That's the truth."
                          
"Oh!" Her eyes grew wide and she shifted to stare at me dead-on. "How was your date with Jason last night? I didn't even get to talk with you about it yet."
                          
Hanging my head back, I let out a loud groan. "Umm, it went all right, I guess. I'm not sure there will be another one any time soon though."
                          
"Why? What happened?" she asked.
                          
"I don't know. He's just not the type of guy I thought he was," I said, taking another sip of wine. "I thought everything went good...really good, but—"
                          
"Really, really good?" Paige raised an eyebrow at me.
                          
Heat crept along my neck and pooled in my cheeks. "Yeah, really, really good."
                          
Paige's mouth dropped open. "You slut!"
                          
"Oh thanks, that makes me feel so much better about it all." I grimaced.
                          
"You know what I mean." She shook her head. "I can't believe you did that! It's so unlike you... It's so me...or Lauren, but not you!"