“Stay away from Magnolia. Have you considered that Sebastian deliberately gave you the wrong number?”
If that’s not a headfuck kind of question, I don’t know what is.
Does Sebastian really think I’d be bad for his sister?
“So I shouldn’t resort to standing under her window and begging her to talk to me?”
“Fuck that. No way, man. Keep your shit together. Rehab your knee. Bag some babes. Find your inner chi.”
I don’t even know what the hell he’s saying right now.
Before I forget… “Hey, asshole, remember when you found that random pie on the porch? That was for me. Maggie made it to thank me for the groceries.”
“And it was damn good. Sorry you missed it.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all.
When I get off the phone, I’m no closer to figuring out what’s going on with Magnolia or what I should do to get her to talk to me than I was an hour ago.
“Honey, it’s dinner time,” my mom calls from the other room, reminding me I won’t be back in Charming for several days.
Gramps is having several toes amputated, and he’ll need around-the-clock care. He was waiting for Kayla’s wedding to pull the trigger, but his doctor called this morning and said he shouldn’t put it off any longer. I need to stick around to help my parents take care of him and make sure Gramps is stable, which means I won’t get a chance to grovel under Maggie’s window for a while.
I just hope she responds to my texts before then so I don’t go out of my mind in the meanwhile.
16
MAGGIE
With vicious movements, I scrub the floor. I’m on my hands and knees, covered in sweat and grime, determined to focus on the task at hand. I’m going to finish renovating the hardwood on the second floor if it kills me.
But thoughts of what happened last weekend hover in the back of my mind like a lingering migraine.
Because it’s been nine fucking days.
Nine. Days.
And still no calls from Michael.
In my weaker moments, I’ve cried or obsessed over how incredible the sex was.
In my stronger moments, I’ve fantasized about getting one of those voodoo dolls, dressing it like Michael Oliver, and plucking off all of his limbs.
Could I dig up his number and call him? Sure. But I have too much pride to break down and do that. He was the one who paraded another woman at the brunch within hours of fucking me. After telling me how special he thought I was. After saying he’d always liked me.
After I foolishly thought he was what I’d been looking for, the kind of man I wanted long-term.
Was everything just a ruse to get me in bed?
Was he telling me the truth about overhearing his parents going at it, or was he really banging Vanessa?
That thought really sent me over the edge.
Just when I started to calm down, Sebastian called and gave me all the details about Michael’s “great girlfriend.” He went on and on about how Vanessa was such a sweetheart and so beautiful and how she was looking out for his bro’s best interests.
I was tempted to tell Bash how his “bro” fucked his little sister into oblivion Saturday night. Three times.
In fact, I just got over the whisker burn on my thighs.
I’ve only slept with boyfriends—three to be exact—and none of them worked my body the way Michael did.
