Page 72 of Pleasure Island
25
Liam
As I made a sweep around the perimeter of the bank, I glanced outside.
A woman with long golden-brown hair walked by, and for a second, I wondered if it was Mila. But then she brushed her hair back from her face, giving me a better look at her profile.
No.
It wasn’t Mila.
It had been two weeks since we’d seen each other, but sometimes, it felt like she was everywhere I went. I saw her all the time, or at least I imagined I did.
I missed her.
I wouldn’t have thought not seeing her would get to me like this. What we’d experienced together had been purely physical, and while there was no denying I missed having her close where I could touch her, kiss her, take her, there was more to this than just the physical.
I missed the way she teased me.
I missed the way I could look up and just know she’d be there.
I missed the way I sometimes found her staring at me.
I just plain missed her.
The woman passed out of view, and I made myself keep on walking. I’d found another job. It was in security, but nothing like what I’d been doing. I was the night guard at a big bank not far from Times Square. It was monotonous work, but unless I wanted to do something like work at a store or restaurant, security work was about all I felt qualified for.
Some part of me was still thinking about going back to Texas, but if I did that, it would mean I’d given up. And what was I going to do in Texas anyway? Sure, I could probably find security work or maybe think about becoming a cop – plenty of former military did – but the idea didn’t appeal to me.
Besides, I wasn’t sure I wanted to leave.
I’d miss being around Jake. I already felt closer to him than the rest of my family, and I’d started to build a friendship with Raye, the cousin I’d just found out about as well.
Leaving meant leaving all of that.
Leaving also meant I’d never see Mila again.
Granted, the chance of that was slim to none, but I told myself I could still go by her office or her house. I could even call her, if I wanted to. Not that I’d worked up the nerve.
The past two weeks, I’d all but isolated myself.
I’d barely even talked to Jake and Michelle, and I knew it was bothering them.
I’d deal with that, fix it. Come up with something to tell Jake, too, because I had no doubt he’d want to know what had happened with the job.
But all of those were things I told myself I’d deal with on another day. Tomorrow, or maybe next week.
I just needed more time to resettle myself.
Or so I insisted.
* * *
Jake wasn’t inclinedto give me that time.
I’d only been asleep about five hours when he called the next day, and I woke up bleary-eyed and stared at the phone on the nightstand as it continued to ring.
I shoved my head under my pillow and willed the phone to stop.
