Filed To Story: Filthy Beautiful Lies Book PDF Free by Kendall Ryan
Somehow, I’ll force a nod. I’ll manage to get away from him before I curl up in a ball and cry. Collins will come and find me, and I’ll convince him that everything is fine. Just like all of our little fights and misunderstandings over the years.
I take a deep breath and check myself one last time in the mirror and fix a stray hair-not exactly sure why I bother-before heading out to find Collins. As I take the stairs, I wonder if it really has to be that way. Because after all this time-after the insanity of me flying across the country to make good on this silly promise-he could have laughed it off. He could have just pretended the whole thing was some stupid joke. And frankly, I’m so embarrassed by it that I would probably have gone along with it.
But he didn’t laugh it off. He asked to talk about it. So now, here I am, half trembling, half giddy, and all messed up. I head down the hall to the kitchen, where I know he takes his breakfast. Either he’s about to crush me, or give me hope this isn’t over yet.
***
Option C. None of the above.
I enter the kitchen to find Tatianna home early from her shoot. She sits next to Collins at the breakfast table filing her nails while he works at his computer. I struggle to hide my disappointment.
Crap.
She sits so straight in her chair, it’s as if she’s got an iron rod shoved up her hooha. When did she get back? My jaw tenses, but when my eyes move from her to Collins my anger fades, and is replaced with concern. Collins looks exhausted. His eyes narrow and his shoulders hunch up as if the very act of being awake is painful. He also looks angry, but about what, I have no idea. Neither of them hear me enter, and are both still lost in their tasks.
“Collins,” I say.
He looks up and tries to smile, but his brow wrinkles. His gaze roams over my body, and he freezes. I wonder if he’s angry about something, or maybe appreciating the extra time and care I took getting ready. I help myself to a cup of coffee and take a seat across from them.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He leans his chin heavily on his hand and says, “I had one, maybe two, too many scotches last night.”
My face heats as I remember our texts last night. Had he been so drunk he didn’t know what he was saying? My heart sinks. He probably doesn’t even remember. It’s all there in your text history, I want to say. We’re supposed to have our talk today.
Tatianna looks up. “Morning, Mia. Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah,” I lie and force a smile. “You’re back.”
She pokes at an empty bowl in front of her. “We got everything done early. For once.” She looks around. “Is there anymore cut fruit?” She must be asking one of the staff, but figures out there isn’t anyone here to serve her, and gets up, heading to the fridge.
“I didn’t forget,” Collins whispers once she’s out of earshot.
His words fill me with hope, and I search for any clue on his face of what he’s thinking. But I can’t read him.
“Meet me out back by the row of palm trees in one hour,” he adds, looking into my eyes with such intensity I feel it deep in my gut. The tension is so thick between us, I think it would be so obvious, but Tatianna is oblivious.
He takes a sip of his coffee, then in a relaxed voice says. “Any big plans for today?”
“More job hunting.” I shrug.
Tatianna comes back to the table with a peeled banana. “Maybe Collins will have something for you.”
Collins looks at me and some of his tense mood falls away. “Sure. I’ll check with Suzanna in HR and see what we have open for someone as talented as you.” He’s looking at my lips in a way that makes me feel dirty as he says this.
I take a deep breath and it shudders out. “That would be great, but I don’t expect a job just handed to me.” I bite my lip.
Tatianna turns to Collins. “You know, babe, I have some pretty great talents too.” She opens her mouth and shoves the entire banana in. It’s meant to be sexy, but it’s too big for her mouth and she struggles to chew it down without choking on it.
I take a sip of my coffee in an effort to hide my smile. But Collins watches her thoughtfully, then looks at me and smiles, planting both his hands on the table as if he’s about to stand. “Well, sorry to leave you to eat alone, but Tatianna and I have some things to take care of before I head out.”
“Oh. Sure,” I say.
Things? What things? And what about our talk?
But Collins’ expression is blank and tells me nothing. Damn his poker face.
Tatianna’s face is talking enough for both of them, though. Her screw-me eyes are drilling a hole all the way through Collins’ head and into the wall behind him. She slips her arm up his chest, hooking her hand around his neck. I try to turn away, but find my eyes glued to them in some sort of sick envious gape.
He stands up. “Good luck with the job hunt. I’ll see you later.” Tatianna gets up and follows him out of the room leaving me alone in the kitchen. I glance around the large room blankly and realize I’m no longer hungry.
My face is getting hot. I’m angry.
He said we were going to talk this morning. “Meet me in an hour,” he said. Well if he thinks I’m going to wait around while he screws his girlfriend, he must be confusing me with some push over. I scoot out of my chair, get up, and find myself storming back up the steps to my room.
By the time I reach my room, my vision is all blurry. I wipe away tears as I close the door and drop down on the bed. How had I allowed myself to get so worked up? I think back to how Sophie said Colton thought Collins loved me. I hadn’t meant to, but I must have grabbed on to that. It had snuck its way into my subconscious, and made me think I had a shot, that happily-ever-afters do exist.
Hell, it isn’t just that. He led me to think I have a shot. What other reason do we have to talk? If he isn’t interested, then there isn’t anything to talk about, so why does he want to talk?
But this question no longer matters. I have all the answers I need in the form of him currently screwing his girlfriend. Why else did they need to suddenly retreat to the bedroom alone together?
I stand up and find my suitcase, and open it on the bed. The answer is finally forcing its way through my thick skull.
It’s time to go home.
Chapter Eleven
Collins