Page 48 of Accepting Fate

Settling into bed, I put my glasses on and tie my hair up into a messy bun.

I shouldn’t but I check my phone one last time.

Nothing.

Disappointment hits hard again and I know I should just leave it alone, but I can’t.

I open up our text thread and send Grayson one last text.

Logan: I told you not to stand me up and that you only got one chance. I meant it then and I mean it now. This was your one chance. I really hope you’re okay, but unless you’re dying, sending a quick text isn’t too much to ask for. This is done.

Tears well in my eyes and I blink them away.

I’m not crying over a man.

Plugging in my phone, I turn off the bedside lamp and bury myself under the covers.

Tonight was supposed to be the start of what I thought was going to be something amazing in my life. Something I didn’t let get away because of fear.

Why did he have to fuck it up?

Chapter Fifteen

Grayson

Grabbingtheoh shit handle, I hoist myself into my truck and slump into the seat. The clock on the dashboard reads three AM.

Tonight was an absolute fucking shit show. My plans to spend the night with Logan flew out the window as I was leaving the shop to go get her.

My entire body feels like it got ran over and my shit mood from earlier in the day only got worse as the night went on.

Before pulling off the side of the road, I grab my phone from the center console.

The screen lights up and I see a missed call and texts from Logan.

I know she is probably responding to my text from earlier. I texted her saying I had an emergency and would make it up to her, then threw my phone in the center console and haven’t looked at it since.

I should be on the road to The Hideout to finish up so I can go the fuck to bed, but I want to know what she said.

Her texts appear on the screen, and I’m immediately confused. Why is she pissed off?

Then I see it.

My fucking text never sent. It’s sitting there typed out but not sent.

Fuckkk.

She told me not to fuck up and even though this is a mistake, she isn’t going to see it that way. The only thing Logan knows is that I begged her to give us a shot and then never showed up.

I slam my hand against the steering wheel. “Fuck!”

I need to fix this. Right now.

Tapping her contact, the ringing filters throughout the speakers of the truck.

An automated voice comes on. “The number you dialed is not available at this time. Goodbye.”

Hanging up, I try again two more times and get the same annoying automated voice.