Jake wasn't at dinner tonight and Charlie didn't seem to notice that I was high, even though I ate half my weight in pasta and beef. It wasn't until I was curled up in my bed in my pajamas, holding my phone and staring at the multiple text messages that Edward and Alice had sent me, I realized I never got his name. The pain I'd felt in my chest when he left had dissipated to a dull ache for the rest of the evening until finally it stopped.
It had been a strange request from him...To lock my windows and doors but I did as he asked. I didn't want Edward to come to my room anyway, not that locks would hinder his access but he would respect my decision.
Looking down at my phone, I quirked an eyebrow. Well, he would respect that decision. The other ones, maybe not so much. It was obvious he knew I was going to break up with him by the way he was begging me to get ahold of him. I didn't want to deal with it tonight though. I'd shared a magnificent kiss with a sexy, stranger man with deep, expressive eyes. I'd had an epiphany of sorts when I decided that I wasn't going to take Edward's and Alice's shit anymore. I'm still unsure whether it was the weed that calmed me enough to let me make the choice or if the beautiful man I'd met on the beach tonight gave me the courage.
I didn't want to peg all my hopes and dreams on a man whom I didn't even know. So we shared a kiss on a deserted beach? That didn't mean that I was dumping Edward for him. I'd made the decision unconsciously beforehand, apparently, and only had the courage to admit it to myself seconds before we kissed. If anything, the admittance in my own head was what gave me the courage to act on my feelings. Well, that and those deep grey-blue eyes of his. The way he looked at me was as if I hung the moon. He didn't even know me and yet he looked at me like he could see my soul.
Clutching my pillow to my chest, I sighed happily as I drifted off to images of the sexy, stranger man. The feel of his lips on mine, the way his hands gripped my waist. I could still smell him on me, having not changed my shirt for bed. He smells like wet leaves and cumin. His skin was soft under my fingertips yet his hands were rough on my waist. A working man.