We exited the bathroom. I glanced around, but didn’t see Peter anywhere. I frowned. “I don’t see him.”
“He’s got to be around somewhere,” Marnie said.
“You know what—let’s just go.”
“What?”
“He’s not here…maybe that’s a sign.”
“But he could be in the rest—”
“I’ve made up my mind.” I wrapped my fingers around Marnie’s forearm and steered her toward the club’s exit. Now that Peter was nowhere to be found, I was taking the chicken’s way out.
“Oh, all right.” Marnie sounded disappointed.
“I thought I was ready, but…” My voice trailed off. But what? Why was I running?
The answer came to me in the next instant. I was running because I was afraid of the intense reaction I was having to Peter. How easily a man who wasn’t my husband turned me on and made me want to get naked.
A man who was a stranger.
When we stepped outside, the air was warm and moist, but far more refreshing than the sweat-filled air in the club. My head swayed a little, reminding me that I’d had too much to drink. Marnie offered me her arm, and we began to walk.
We strolled past the various clubs along CityWalk, passing giggling groups of young women in skimpy clothes. Their night was just beginning, while I was headed home.
Sexually frustrated.
“Sophie!”
Marnie stopped abruptly. Her face lit up. “Did you hear that?”
I did, and my stomach jumped. Slowly, I turned, secretly excited that Peter had followed me out.
But when I saw who’d called me, my stomach jumped again— this time from fear.
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