No. Why would I even think of something that stupid?
Raymond and I worked at the same company. Why would he leak my story? Besides, he was my best friend.
It had to be a coincidence. Nothing more.
I shook the thought away and headed toward the elevators. I pressed the button and stepped inside, forcing myself to breathe. I'd just told myself it was nothing—but my gut didn't entirely agree. That line had been too accurate. Too familiar.
Okay. Enough. I am exhausted. That is what all this is about. Fatigue is playing tricks on me.
The elevator dinged, snapping me out of my thoughts. I stepped out, found my room, and went inside. I dropped my bag, kicked off my shoes, and collapsed onto the bed, spreading out like a lazy slug.
You know those moments when you don't even plan to sleep—and then suddenly, you're gone?
That was me. But this was planned right from the plane ride when I drooled on....I can't even say his name.
And honestly?
It was very well deserved.
I woke to the ringing of my phone—then silence.
I groaned, yawning and stretching before grabbing it from the bedside table.
12:00 p.m.
Whatever. I am on vacation.
Then I saw it.
12 missed calls
11 missed FaceTimes
20 messages
All from Raymond.
My stomach dropped.
I'd promised to call him the moment I arrived so he'd know I was safe. I didn't waste another second—I FaceTimed him immediately.
He picked up at once.
"Hiii," I said the moment his face filled the screen.
"Aubrey, what the fuck is wrong with you?" he snapped, clearly upset.
"Hey, hey, hey," I said quickly. "You know what I said about swearing in the morning. It's very bad."
"Very funny," he said, unimpressed. "Do you know how worried I was? We agreed you'd call as soon as you landed. What happened?"
"I was jet-lagged," I sighed. "I've always wanted to see Vegas—like all the Elvises who've ever lived here—but it's… a lot. It doesn't even feel like a vacation anymore."
"Oh no," he said, leaning closer to the screen. "Don't leave me hanging. Tell me everything. I want juice."
"A lot happened," I said, glancing around the room. My pillow was on the floor.
Must've fallen off.
I picked it up and tossed it back onto the bed.
"We've got all day," he said. "I got nothing to do."
"What about your part time job and our company?" I asked.
"I took the day off," he said. "Don't ask why. Just talk."
So I did.
I told him about the plane ride, the airport, Vegas, the cab driver, the chaos, the exhaustion. I almost told him about the line I'd heard in the lobby—but stopped. I wasn't even sure I'd really heard it.
"You okay?" he asked suddenly.
I forgot it wasn't just a voice call—he could see my thinking face.
"Yeah," I said quickly. "Just… thinking."
"Okay," he said slowly. "So that's all?"
"That's all?" I repeated. "I just narrated what could be a full movie. What were you expecting—me meeting the president of Sin City?"
"Yeah," he said seriously. "Duh."
We both laughed.
"Alright," he said, grinning. "Time to analyze. You drooled on a very handsome stranger with unreal blue eyes, blurted out that you didn't want to be with him because it felt like a story, and then he disappeared the moment you landed. Did I miss anything?"
"I thought you said you were analyzing everything," I said.
"I did," he replied smugly.
"What about the cab driver? My exhaustion? Literally everything else?"
"Not important," he waved it off. "This part? Gold."
"What? Why?!" I demanded.
"Because," he said softly, "I've known you your whole life—and I've never seen you talk about a man while blushing."
"I am not blushing," I said, pouting.
"You are. And it's normal to have a crush."
"I do not have a crush on him."
"Listen to me, Aubrey," he said gently. "You've never let yourself like anyone before. And restricting yourself from loving is a crime. Love is a must especially for you."
Before I could respond—
Ding.
The doorbell rang.