Kayla
I laid on the couch that evening, reading the last pages of my book—the same fantasy romance that Nicholas had recommended. I was finally almost finished with it, and admittedly, I was sad that it was nearly over.
No matter how annoyed I was with Nicholas, I had to hand it to him: he had good taste in books. Particularly romance novels.
I hadn’t seen him all day since the meeting with the wedding planner at the diner. He had dropped me off at home afterwards, saying that he had things to do, then sped off. I didn’t really bother to stand there and watch him drive away before I had gone inside.
Contrary to what one might think, though, I wasn’t mad at him. Not really.
I was just… frustrated. With him, with myself, with the entire situation between us.
I shifted
