I turned off my computer at 5:59 p.m. and packed my bag. Barely a week in, and I was still in disbelief over the last forty-eight hours.
But yet, something bugged me. I checked my phone again. No missed calls. No new messages. Not from Rhys. I sighed. Just as I stepped out into the hallway, my phone buzzed.
A text from...Rhys!
'Meet me tonight. The bar. 8 p.m.'
My heart stuttered. I typed back, almost too immediately. 'Which one?'
'Don't act cute. I know you stalk. Back room. 8.'
I forced a lump down my throat, my lips curving into a slight smile as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Then I walked out, adrenaline and apprehension twisting my guts.
By 8:02 p.m, I stood at the entrance to the bar I knew he was regular at. The bar was nearly empty, classic jazz on the speakers,
