Page 71 of Finding London
“Yeah, I guess. It seems longer.” She smiles. “I’ve been craving that pasta we had at the bistro in The Venetian.”
I groan. “Oh, that was so good.”
“I know. I seriously dream about it.”
“Okay, let me text her.” I send a quick text to my mom.
Before Paige can find something we want to watch on the DVR, my mom texts back.
I look down at my phone. “She’s in. She’s calling her travel agent now to book it. She says to start packing. She’s going to arrange for us to fly out tomorrow.”
“Yay!” Paige claps. “Your mom doesn’t mess around.”
“She probably wants to lock us in before something comes up, and I change my mind.”
“Well, whatever. She always plans the best vacations.”
“It’s our travel agent, Margaret. She’s planned enough of our trips to know what we like.”
“True. Let’s go pack,” Paige says excitedly, hopping off of the couch. “I hope I have enough cute outfits. We’re not going to have time to go shopping tonight.”
“It’s fine. We can shop in Vegas.” I follow Paige out of the living room.
“You’re right. So true,” Paige answers.
Well, I suppose if I have to spend the next week and a half without Loïc, there’s no better way to spend it than with my mom and best friend in Vegas.
I returned from Las Vegas two days ago—well rested, tanned, overly fed, and shopped out. Actually,restedmight be a stretch. Even though we spent many of our days lounging in the sun by the pool, Paige and I also spent an equal amount of nights out at the clubs. Anyone who has ever been to Vegas knows how exhausting that is.
So, in truth, I’m probably still slightly exhausted from the trip even though I slept the entire day after we got back. I might also be mildly jet-lagged as well. I’m using those two excuses as reasoning behind my current predicament.
Let’s face it…I should just go to bed.
That would be the rational, logical behavior, but I’ve never been much of a rule-follower if said rules impede on my happiness. London first, logic second. At least I know myself enough to admit it.
It doesn’t help that Paige went out with a group of our friends tonight, leaving me alone in our house to think. I don’t do well with uninterrupted thinking time and no one around to talk me out of my actions.
So, here I am, driving to Loïc’s, in just my PJs and flip-flops. My pajamas happen to be nothing more than a pair of yoga shorts and a flimsy tank top. My attire isn’t even suitable to stop and get gas in. That’s how much I wasn’t thinking when I decided to bolt out of the house in my quest to get to Loïc. I blame Paige for not being accessible to talk me off of the ledge.
I let my gaze drop from the road to the car’s front panel.Phew, I still have half a tank of gas. Problem averted.
I shouldn’t blame Paige. She begged me to go out with her. Maybe I should have agreed. I just wasn’t in the mood to go party. I hoped that I would be spending the evening with Loïc. I hadn’t seen him in two weeks because he was at training. He’d called twice while I was in Vegas, but we weren’t able to talk long either time.
I knew he was getting back today, and to say that I was excited would be a gross understatement. I’d practically been counting down the seconds until I would get to see him again, which was supposed to be today.
But then he called.
As soon as I heard his voice, I knew something was off. He said everything was fine, but I knew it wasn’t. I could hear it in what he wasn’t saying. His words were reassuring and placating, but in the empty spaces between each one were breaths of something that made my heart hurt. I suppose it was a sadness of sorts.
Red flags went up as soon as he told me that he couldn’t see me today.
“I have a headache and just want to lie down. I’ll see you tomorrow,” were his words.
I have been missing him every second of every day for the past two weeks, and he’ll see me tomorrow?
I reluctantly agreed and proceeded to sulk in my room for the next several hours. I refused to go out with Paige.
God forbid I do anything to take my mind off its current torture.
