Chapter 68
Anna
Up in the pink bedroom, I flopped back onto the bed with an angry sigh.I'd been sent to my room, for God's sake.
As I replayed the events of the day, I had to wonder if that's how Flynn treated his real girlfriends, too. I considered Felicity Saint Cloud. Wouldsheput up with that?
Doubtful.
Then again, she hadn't been afakegirlfriend. She'd been the real deal.
Well, goodie for her.
But even as I thought it, I considered Flynn's reaction when the front door had miraculously opened. He'd been concerned for my safety, even more so than for his own. That much had been glaringly obvious, even after our argument.
Feeling more confused than ever, I reached for my cell phone. Desperate for some sort of insight, I pulled up my browser and did a quick Web search on "Flynn Archer."
It was no surprise when the top search results were peppered with references to me, and not in a good way. I clicked on a random link and was rewarded with a photo of me and Flynn sitting at the local coffee shop. The photo had been taken through the shop's window from somewhere across the street.
We were holding hands across the table. At the image, something squeezed at my heart. It all looked so pretty – me gazing at Flynn while he looked back at me with something that looked an awful lot like love.
It looked so stupidly real – so real, in fact, that I might've believed it myself if only I didn't know better. I mentally announced,"And the Oscar goes to...Flynn Archer, for his performance in…?"This is where I hesitated. I couldn't think of a decent movie name. But Ididknow that I was tired of starring in it.
As sweet as this fantasy was, I was longing for something real, something that I could wrap my mind around in a way that made sense, something that wouldn't give me the mental whiplash between fiction and reality.
And yet, like some sort of glutton for punishment, I clicked on a related video link and felt myself stiffen. It was that godawful interview with my mom. Until now, I'd only watched it the one time.And why?It was because once had been more than enough.
Still, I kept my gaze on the screen, even as she paraded the reporters through our shabby little apartment and threw open my closet door to reveal that stupid waffle uniform in all its pink glory.
I wasn't ashamed of who I was or what I did for a living, but Iwasashamed of how my mom preened for the camera, even as she gushed, "They knew each other in high school, you know. They've got averydeep connection."
I grimaced. About this, my mom was right. Flynn and I had a connection all right, but she knew darn well that it wasn't the way she'd made it sound. By the time the video ended, with my mom making some sly hints about wedding bells, I felt nearly nauseous.
No wonder I hadn't watched it a second time.
And yet, like a total dumb-ass, I kept clicking on related links until I landed on something that made me suck in a horrified breath. It was a video from today and not too long ago either.
I didn't need the video's time stamp to tell me this. All I needed were my fresh memories, even as the embarrassing scenario played out all over again on my phone's miniature screen.
The video opened with me stalking blindly toward the camera while Flynn strode along beside me, giving me long somber looks right up until the moment I nearly walked into traffic, at which point he'd looked nearly frantic as he yanked me back to safety.
Now in the quiet bedroom, I squeezed my eyes shut as the video continued to play. Unfortunately for me, it had also sound, which meant that it captured loud and clear that awful moment when I'd actually yelled at Flynn on the street.
Lovely.
Even now, I was nearly certain that I'd never done such a thing before in my whole life. It was sad to think that the first and only time had been captured for the whole world to see forever and ever.
It was sadder, too when I considered that I'd said such a thing right after he'd saved me from a near-squashing.
I looked like a total bitch.
And yes, I guess I'd acted like one, too.
I sighed. But at least it was a jolly good show, right?
By now, I had a raging headache and was utterly exhausted. I tossed aside my phone and stared stupidly up at the ceiling until my eyes drifted shut of their own accord and I fell into a mindless sleep.
By the time I woke, the room was pitch-black. Momentarily confused, I fumbled under the covers for my cell phone, intending to check the time. The effort was a waste.
