BOOK II.
Four months have passed since Ashton and Ria's relationship fell into ruins. He's convinced that she hates him and she believes he never loved her. Giving up on each other, they attempt to mend their loneliness in the arms of their past; Ch...
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THE REST OF THE RIDE home, one word is trapped within the confines of Ria's mind. Why? Why hasn't Ashton tried to contact her? Why didn't Daniel tell her about this? They may not be close, but she thought he was at least her friend.
For months she's been giving Ashton excuses, holding on to the hope that maybe, just maybe there was a valid reason under all of this. Maybe Ashton couldn't contact her.
Now she knows that he simply didn't try.
Going home to Chris and his surprise is the very last thing she wants to do this evening. As she trudges up the stairs to her apartment, she comes up with a million awful excuses she can give to postpone this. Sorry, I'm sick to my stomach and feel like balling up in a corner and crying for the rest of the day.
When she reaches her door and eases inside, Chris is waiting for her, standing partway in the living room, eyes wide, piercing hers as if she were something unholy stepping past the threshold. Her heart jolts to a stop and she lingers in the doorway, already feeling guilty. "Um..."
He jerks his head to the side, bringing her attention to someone sitting in the living room. Ria's limbs freeze and she narrows her eyes at the intruder, a woman resting on her burgundy sofa as if she belongs there.
"Chris, who is this?" Ria demands just as the woman begins to turn around.
"I have no idea," he stammers and rushes over to her, "but she knows your name and-"
"Now you look much more like a Ria," comes the woman's delicate voice, Spanish influence threads through each syllable in an almost seductive manner. She rises from the sofa and saunters towards them, carrying herself like Aphrodite in the flesh.
"I don't know you," Ria says slowly and glares at Chris. "I don't know her. Why did you let her in?"
"You don't know me, but you'll want to," the woman sings. She stands before Ria, challenging her height and only coming up short by an inch or so. Though her full figure puts Ria's to shame. Every dip and curve is embellished by a floor-length raven dress that hugs every inch of her as if it were made for her frame alone.
Who wears a dress in this weather? Ria straightens her spine and tugs at the folds of her coat.
"Hmm." The woman taps a crimson nail against her cherry lips and drags her large eyes up and down Ria's figure. "You are quite beautiful." A graceful sweep of her hand sends locks of mocha shaded hair over her shoulders. "Your tan complexion is so unique with your red hair." A step closer and she narrows her eyes. Ria's heart stumbles as she lets out a dramatic gasp. "And you have freckles? Now I'm jealous. They're like little bronze specs littered across your pretty little face. No wonder Vincent calls you an angel."
