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Dex: Yes.

Dex hoped his answer didn’t disappoint Lisa too much. He would love for it to be for two, but knowing Cayla’s temperament, he would be flying solo. Dex looked at his watch. He had about two hours to kill before the flight left. It’d been at least twenty minutes since he hung up on Cayla. He knew he would be plagued with what ifs if he didn’t ask her. He hit dial on his phone.

“What?” Cayla hissed in the phone.

Dex ignored his irritation. “Hey. I was wondering if you would like to accompany m...”

“No,” she hissed again.

“Cayla, you don’t even know where…”

“It doesn’t matter,” she cut him off again. “We’re not going anywhere or doing anything together today.”

“But, I’m talking about the week...”

“No, Dex. You’re a selfish ass…”

Dex hung up again. Selfish? He hoped she liked talking to air because she wasn’t talking to him like that on a phone he paid for monthly. He knew part of her behavior was due to fear of what was happening between them. He also knew he could have her singing a different tune if he went to her house. He wasn’t playing her game.

Cayla: YOU HUNG UP ON ME AGAIN.

Dex: Look. I’m not arguing with u. I haven’t done anything 2 u. I told u I don’t like games.

Cayla: I’m not playing games.

Dex: Whatever. I’m about to enjoy my weekend. U do the same.

Cayla: You just can’t dismiss me because you don’t feel like talking.

Dex: Just did. You dismiss me all the time.

Dex: Bye Cayla. Don’t bother responding because I won’t.

Dex grabbed his bag and a banana. He would eat on the plane. His weekend was looking more promising by the second. He needed some relaxation to clear his mind. He knew relationships were work, but he was spinning his wheels in something that’s not a relationship. Hell, it wasn’t even sex yet. The night before played in his head again. He could have had her then, but deep down he knew she was going to behave just like she’s doing. It would have hurt more if they’d had sex. Cayla needed to come to terms and accept that she wanted him. It was something she had to do on her own. In the meantime, she’d just have to see the weekend she turned down on social media.

Chapter 13

“Snow bunnies!” Cayla seethed before taking a sip of her mimosa.

She’d met Kalilah and Natalia for an emergency Sunday brunch to bitch about Dex’s weekend activities. She held up her phone to show them the offending photo on her screen. Dex was comfortably nestled between blonde twins. Their almost platinum locks were covered by trendy snow caps. Their big blue eyes shown in the flash, their cheeks pink with excitement. Dex looked delicious in a cream sweater and jeans; he had an arm thrown around each girl as he smiled for the camera. His caption read: Look! Snow Bunnies!

Friday, after Cayla cooled down she realized that she would need to take some responsibility in their disagreement that morning. Yes, Dex had hung up in her face twice, but she wasn’t being the easiest person to talk to in those moments. She was confused by his decision to leave when they both knew she would have slept with him. All the things he’d done to her had Cayla more than willing to get horizontal. By morning, she’d convinced herself that Dex was just toying with her. He’d taken her to the point of no return only to smile at her and leave. Cayla thought he wanted to prove he could get her naked, and once he did, he didn’t need to go any further.

Either way, she’d determined that they needed to talk. Opting to let him cool down, she’d decided to try to talk to him on Monday. Friday night, she’d snuggled up in her bed with her favorite snack and drink. As the plush surroundings of her bed caressed and soothed her, she’d realized she missed him. Dex told her not to text.

She had pulled up Instagram and her heart dropped. A surge of disappointment shot through her so acute, she’d popped up from her reclined position faster than she should have thus spilling her popcorn all over the bed. Cayla’s heart sunk more with each picture. Dex was in a different state – and if she were to judge by the photos – not thinking about her. She stewed all day Saturday.

When she felt her head was going to explode, Cayla called Kalilah and Natalia for Sunday brunch. She passed her phone over to them, and they scrolled through the pictures of the weekend. She didn’t need to look again. At this point she’d memorized all of them and in order. The first is one he’d taken of the inside of the private jet. There were two chairs with a welcome sash across them. They were black butter soft leather and looked to be built for comfort. In front of them was a small table adorned with two flutes, a chilled bottle of champagne, fresh fruit, and chocolate covered strawberries. That caption read: Traveling in style.

The next was of a beautiful sprawling mansion meant to look like a log cabin – all rich wood and glass. It was surrounded by plush snowcapped trees. It looked luxurious and peaceful. That caption read: My home for the weekend.

The next was a view from a huge wall of windows. It overlooked the tranquil, cerulean lake surrounded by beautiful snow-covered mountains, a clear, bright blue sky, and more beautiful trees. The brilliant green of the leaves contrasted with the light dusting of snow on top of them. It was a beautiful view straight out of po

st card. She’d rubbed the picture. She wanted to be there. That caption read: The view I get to wake up to this weekend.

Cayla had moaned to herself when the next picture showed a sliver of his abs. He was resting in a hot tub. He’d taken an angled selfie of himself smiling with shades. The water covered his waist. He was holding a bottle of beer, and the same view was in the background. She could see a glimpse of his tattoo. She yearned to touch him. Behind him were two lounge chairs – each had a plush robe waiting. He’d captioned that one: Hot tub.

That’s when everything went to shit. The next photo was the “snow bunnies” photo followed by different things he’d eaten or drunk with them. How could he be trying to take her to eat one morning and be hugged up with twins the same weekend? She knew they weren’t a couple, but it still felt kind of abrupt.


Tags: Francesca Penn Sinclair Erotic