Just One Glance (Oh Tequila #5) - C.A. Harms Page 0,4

you. Let me know if that bitch hurts too bad though, because I could never get the guts up to allow someone to shove a needle through my cli—”

“Okay.” Holding up my hand, I prayed that she stopped there.

When her words faded, smothered by her laughter, I peeked through my fingers at her. She was loving this.

“Number ten, that one is a must, a need to get it and get it good. We fall back to the fact that you are wound so flipping tight you squeak when you walk. You need to loosen up.” I arched my brows upward in surprise and it took her a second to register the words she’d spoken. “Oops, sorry, bad choice of wording.”

This gained laughter from me as well, because come on, it was too fitting.

“You said you were tired of being invisible. You said you wanted to do all the things you’ve never done because you were to afraid. This is it. We follow this list, even with my well thought out additions.”

Well thought out, my ass.

“By the end you’ll be thanking me.”

I wasn’t so sure about that, she was a mess, a fun, easy going, living-her-life mess.

***

Stepping up to the front door of my house I paused, taking a few extra minutes to ensure I was presentable. One deep breath in followed by a slow exhale, I placed the key in the lock and twisted.

The soft click echoed, or so it felt. One should never feel this type of pressure when coming home. It’s supposed to be the place of escape, one of comfort and security. Only to me it was more like entering a courtroom where I would once again be placed on the stand to prove my innocence. The thing was I never knew exactly what I’d been charged with each time until the questions began. Home to me was stressful, it was nerve racking, and a place I hated. It was almost like I was trapped, caged like a wild animal that should be allowed to run free.

“Ruby.” I had not yet closed the door when my father was already calling out for me. “Running a little late, I see.” Stepping out of the den where his office was, I could already see the disapproving glare in his eyes. “I hope whatever it was you were doing after class was something productive and not simply a waste of valuable time.”

“I was at the library.” I no longer felt bad when I lied to him. It had become a means of survival. No matter what I did or said, however big or small, he’d always found something wrong in it. “I have a paper due in class next week.”

“Which class?” He wasn’t asking because he was interested. He was asking so that he could test me. But if the years alone with my father had taught me anything, it was to always be prepared.

“Professor Miles, International Relations,” I said with conviction. Silence fell over us as he watched, as if waiting for me to crack. I didn’t.

With a simple nod, I was dismissed and moved toward the staircase, fully intending to hide out in my bedroom. Only his booming voice stopped me. “I have dinner tonight with several faculty members, so I will be out late. You will have to fend for yourself.”

Looking back over my shoulders, I forced a smile. “Okay.”

I hurried to my room, closed the door behind me, and took in a slow, calming breath. Darcy was right, I was a ticking time bomb. One full of tension. The idea that this could be my life for the next however many years it took to complete college and gain a degree I didn’t even want made me feel nauseous.

I’d been told I would be a lawyer, not asked. It had never been about what I wanted, or what made me happy. My mother was the one who cared, she was the one who allowed me to be me. She never forced my hand, she gave me options, then in the end when we made the choice, it was always what I wanted. My father worshiped my mother, but truth be told, he’d never wanted children. He’d only conceived me to keep her happy. I was the one who reminded him he’d lost her.

I’d dreamt of being a dancer, though I knew that would have never been my only joy. I knew I wanted it to play a big part. But after my mother passed, my father