The Plus One Professional (BLISS BRIDAL #1) by Shawna Renae EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Shawna Renae
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
BAILEY
A loud beep sounded as I held the phone to my ear. My palms
tingled, and my heart was lodged in my throat. In an attempt to soothe the
butterflies throwing a rave in my stomach, I took a breath. He hadn’t even
answered. I was such a mess that I was stressed about leaving a simple
message. “Hey, Simon, it’s, um, me. I saw I missed your call, so I was,
yeah, just calling you back. I was in the shower.”
Why? Why had I told him I was in the shower? That was TMI. Would
he think I was trying to be sexy, or something?
Play it cool, I told myself.
“So, yeah, phone tag, you’re it.”
Phone tag, you’re it?! Yeah, that was not cool at all. It was the antithesis
of cool.
I hung up before I said anything more embarrassing. I stared down at
the device in my hand and told myself to put the phone down and finish
getting ready. I also instructed myself not to listen to the two messages I’d
received over the past week again.
Do. Not. Listen. As I watched my finger hit the last saved message from
five days ago, those words scrolled through my mind like ticker tape.
Simon’s deep voice echoed off the walls of my tiny, closet-sized
bathroom. “Hey, Bay. It’s been a while. I was hoping to catch you. Give me
a call back when you have a chance. Miss you… Talk soon.”
As I slathered lotion on my damp legs, I set the phone down and my
brain began dissecting what I’d heard. Just like the first time I’d listened to
the message and the twenty or so times I’d listened to it since then, I noted
the pause between ‘miss you’ and ‘talk soon.’A few seconds of silence held
so much possibility.
What was he going to say?
Why had he stopped himself?
Had he nearly said he loved me?
It had been over three years since I’d seen Simon in person and heard
him use the L-word. Two of those years, he’d lived in London. Since
returning to the States fourteen months ago, he’d been in New York. We’d
kept in touch mainly via emails, and a few texts here and there. Then he’d
called two weeks ago to let me know he was moving back to San Francisco
and wanted to see me. That was message number one. Message number two
was the one I just replayed, saying he missed me. After that, there had only
been missed calls. No more voicemails.
I was trying not to get my hopes up, but the hopeless romantic in me
was screaming that this was it. This was our time. Finally, we were going to
be together for real. Finally, he was ready to settle down. Finally, we’d have
the life we talked about having since we were high school sweethearts.
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