Miss Belief: A Fake Relationship Romance (The Miss Series Book 3)
Miss Belief: Chapter 32

I was about to go nuts. Where was Reid? He’d been gone almost twenty minutes. In retrospect, I supposed that, in addition to meeting his mother, he was probably saying goodbye to his friends. Damn. I should’ve gotten dressed again myself and gone with him.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, and I breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Reid’s name on the screen. He was probably telling me he was smoking a cigar with Phil or something. But the words I read took me off guard.

“I’m up in Vanessa’s room talking. I may be a while.”

My stomach had been in knots ever since Chance’s visit. Now it threatened a full-on mutiny. I typed my reply quickly.

“Okay. I should’ve said this earlier, but I’m looking forward to going to LA together.”

Given my less-than-enthusiastic response to his suggestion, I needed to ensure he understood my true wishes.

But no response. Fifteen minutes. Then twenty. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, I texted him again.

“Need a rescue?”

The dots appeared immediately, indicating he was typing. At least you couldn’t text while having sex with the ex. Unless he was getting a blowjob. Jesus. I was being paranoid, but vulnerability was tough to overcome. I couldn’t help feeling uneasy. Hell, for all I knew Chance had left me to go talk to his brother. Right now, Reid could be finding out my secret from someone who couldn’t explain the why.

“No rescue needed, but I’ll be a while longer. I’m sorry, but I have feelings to resolve.”

A gut punch would’ve felt better. A little voice in my mind gloated that I told you so. He hadn’t promised anything, and we hadn’t discussed our future.

Another text came in. “It may be best if you go to LA alone. I should return home with Vanessa and figure things out.”

Translation. He was taking a step toward getting back together with his ex. God, how could I have been stupid enough to think he was ready to start a new relationship? To believe he’d choose me, of all people, with which to do so.

I didn’t bother to respond. What could I say?

But I did have a decision to make. Stay here, pathetically hoping he’d return to the room if only to collect his things before I left for my flight tomorrow morning, or avoid any kind of awkward farewell altogether.

Avoidance reigned supreme. I had my pride. I wasn’t about to let him see me cry. So I called down to the concierge and found out there was a red-eye flight to Chicago leaving at midnight. From there, I could connect to LA. It was a brutal way to get home, but at this point, I’d take it.

The lobby was mostly empty when I walked off the elevator trailing my suitcase behind me. I had my head down and intended to ask the doorman for a taxi to the airport when a now-familiar voice stopped me.

“Teagan?”

“Of course you’re here, because my night just can’t get worse.”

Chance looked down at my suitcase. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business.” The last person I wanted to spend another minute talking to was Reid’s brother.

“You’re leaving?”

“Nothing gets by you.”

The judgy motherfucker had the audacity to look disappointed. “I’ll wire your money. Just give me the account number.”

My chuckle was hollow. “I don’t want your fucking money. I’m leaving because Reid is evidently going home with Vanessa to resolve his feelings.”

Chance’s eyes went wide. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m in a joking mood?”

“But he’s crazy about you.”

“Yet you were willing to ruin that too.” All my adrenaline was busy draining my body and leaving a heavy sadness in its place. “Anyhow, I’d give you a big fuck-you speech, but I’m fresh out of fucks to give.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I turned to go but felt his gentle tug on my elbow.

“Wait. Where is Reid now?”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

Maybe if I repeated the words, I’d start to believe them. The moisture gathering in my eyes told me differently.

He muttered a curse. “Where are you heading?”

“LA.”

“My private plane can take you.”

“I’d rather walk barefoot across glass and fire to get to LA than share a plane with you.”

His brow rose at my absurd comeback. What could I say? It wasn’t my best work.

“You and your feet can rest assured; I wouldn’t be with you. I’ll call the pilot now and tell him to expect you.”

It was tempting to tell him hell no, but that meant a middle seat on the flight to Chicago, a layover, and then another middle seat, no doubt, on the way to LA. By using Chance’s plane, I could at least get there quicker. He might be doing it in order to guarantee my departure, but at this point I didn’t care.

“Fine.”

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