Chapter Thirteen
Lance left sometime early that morning. When, I wasn’t exactly sure, but his Jeep was gone when I staggered out of bed at around seven-thirty, feeling seriously hung over even though all I’d had to drink the night before was approximately a glass and a half of wine. Well, sometimes hangovers could be mental rather than physical.
I tried to put away the feel of his lips, the warmth of his flesh, as I took a shower and prepped myself for the meeting at Persephone and Paul’s house. The timing meant I’d be hanging another sign on the door at the UFO Depot, but I wasn’t about to skip out on something so important just because the store was open. Luckily, Thursdays tended to be slow as well — not quite as quiet as Wednesdays, true, but it wasn’t as if I was shutting the place
