𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐄𝐘
For the past five years, I've managed to avoid him. I've managed to forget about him and move on from him. Mostly. Alex Lancaster and I have history, but nothing will ever change between us.
At least until he shows up at my dad's work...
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"Rise and shine, sleepy heads." I groan as the blinds are pulled open, the sun beaming in my eyes. "Plane leaves in an hour. You got that much time to pack and be ready to go before the plane leaves."
"Where are we even going?" I flip over, hiding myself in the covers.
"Arizona." I jump up. "Kidding. We're going to Texas."
I groan, flopping back. "Why?"
"We have an interview. The entire band and you included." The covers are pulled off of me. "So get up and get a move on."
I hear another voice groan. "Theo!"
I take a moment to think about what he said, then spring upward. "The plane." I whisper. "Shit, shit, shit." I climb out of bed, finding my phone on the nightstand. I check the time. 9:42. "I'm late. Shit!" As I'm struggling to get my shoes on, I call Rhys.
He doesn't answer on the first ring, but he answers all the same, "Hello?"
"Hi. I'm so sorry I'm late. I-I overslept and now I have some interview to get to in Texas and—"
"Lindsey, it's fine." He chuckles.
I slow. "Really?"
"Yes. Get to your interview. I'll have someone fill in for you until you get back."
"Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
"You're welcome. Just try to get some work done while you're there."
I nod, then remember he can't see me. "Will do. Thanks, Mr. Crosyo." We say our goodbyes then hang up. "Shit." I curse when I remember I'm not in my house, so I can't pack anything. I walk— more like run to the front door, finding my car keys hanging up.
How do I know they're mine? The pink fuzzy ball keychain hanging from it. Before I know it, I'm pulling out of the parking garage and onto the street headed toward my place.
Once I'm home, I rush inside, all but slamming my front door shut in my haste to make it to my room. I also may or may not trip over a few pieces of furniture on the way.
I scan my closet, searching for my suitcase. But I can't seem to find it. "Where the hell is my suitcase?" I whisper to myself. I move to my bed, crouching to look under, and thank God that I stashed it under there.
I pull it out, open it, and begin making my way to my closet. I pick out an entire week's worth of outfits — I don't know how many days we're staying and I don't have the time to ask.
I decide to change into a black crop top with baggy, flowy sleeves paired with a pair of blue jeans and my black high-heeled boots. I also pack my curling iron and my makeup bag. I make sure to pack my work and my laptop. I'm going to need it. I also need coffee.
I take a moment to double check that I have everything. Once I'm sure I do, I grab my jacket and stuff it inside before I put my coat on and carry my suitcase and purse to the door.
