The One and Only [COMPLETED]

Chapter 23

Collage above is Andrew and Hailey! Aren't they cute? :)

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Chapter 23

"Justin?" I ask, flabbergasted. Standing quickly, I move towards him to make sure that my waiter from Carrie's Cuddly Cafe is actually standing in my living room.

"Hey hot stuff," he replied, plopping himself down on the couch and getting comfortable. Why the hell is he on my couch? Just, no.

"What are you doing in my house? How do you even know where I live?" The questions were coming a mile a minute. Can you blame me though? I mean, here this guys is—who, by the way, was my waiter at a local cafe in North freaking Carolina—sitting in my house as if he owns it, and not once did I ever give him my address, number, or even mentioned that I was from California. So, clearly, I've got a freaking stalker.

He grinned, bringing his right ankle to his knee. "You might want to sit down for this."

I cross my arms, trying to look intimidating, but I know I'm anything but. "I'm fine standing, thank you."

Shrugging, he let his grin linger before he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, his face becoming serious. "Are you sure you can handle what I have to say?"

I roll my eyes, knowing he's messing with me. "How do I know if I can handle it if you won't even tell me what it's about?" Under my breath, just low enough so that he didn't hear me, I added, "idiot."

"Heard that," he said, the grin coming back. "And if I tell you why I've mysteriously knocked on your door, you'll kick me out before I get a chance to say what I need."

Becoming even more creeped out, I back up until I'm a good six feet away beside John, who's watching Justin with intense, calculating eyes. "Tell me why you're here or I'll call Andrew in a flash."

He laughed. Like, a genuine eye-crinkling, tear-jerking laugh that caused him to double over as he held his stomach. For a moment, John and I glanced at each other like he had gone crazy. Well, he probably can't get any crazier than he already is. Once he sobered up enough to speak, he choked out, "That's ridiculous! You and I both know that Andrew is long gone."

I gulped, praying his words weren't true. I mean, they couldn't be. I just talked to Andrew a few days ago, and he sounded far from dead, so there's no reason to worry. With this in my mind, I knew he had to be lying. He knows something.

"Why are you here?" I reiterate my question for what feels like the thousandth time. I cross my arms across my chest firmly. I was done with his antics.

"Well, if you must know," he stands up, walking towards me slowly like an animal hunting its prey. Even though my instincts are telling me to run, I keep my feet planted on the ground, showing him that he wasn't going to get the best of me. He stops when his face is maybe half a foot away from mine. His breath smells like cigarettes and minty gum when he speaks. "I'm here, because Andrew sent me."

I couldn't help the sharp inhalation of air caused by his words. The pain in my heart increased by a thousand, and I couldn't help but feel like I was slapped across the face several times. My skin tingled and stung all over from the realization that Andrew is safe.

This whole time I thought he was out on the streets somewhere, fending for himself, when in reality, he's been in touch with Justin, obviously unharmed. I know I don't know the whole story yet, but from what I know so far, it seems like Andrew didn't want me to find him. If the only person Andrew's kept in touch with is Justin—a person who, last time I checked, was despised by Andrew—then he must be avoiding me. Does he not care about me at all? Maybe the connection I thought we had was only in my head. But I was so sure it was real. I could practically touch it with my fingertips, the soft feeling of clouds coming in contact with my skin. Maybe I'm wrong, but what I felt with Andrew can't disappear overnight.