How to Destroy a Rich Boy

Chapter Fifty-Five

She chuckled again. "Anyway, honey, I've got to get going now the nurses are rushing me along."

"Okay, okay, fine, see you then. Give dad and the twins a hug for me if you get home before I do, okay?" I insisted with a smile.

 She laughed. "Will do, bye honey," she called before the receiver line went dead.

Finishing off my overly excited happy dance, I flopped back down onto the sofa with a jubilant smile. At least one thing about my life was turning for the better.

As I had that thought, my phone vibrated in my hands, indicating I had a message. Furrowing my brows, I slowly lifted the phone up to my face to see what notification had popped up.

As soon as I saw who the text message was from, I stiffened. Reluctantly, and despite knowing how dangerous it was to engage, I clicked on it.

Natalie: I'm sick.

What on earth...

I scanned the message from back to front, but it still kept reading the same way. Who the hell texts someone that they are sick with no further details?

My fingers hovered over the keypad as I wrestled with the idea of replying. After yesterday's disastrous date, I made a vow with myself to seize all contact with Nathan for his sake. 

But I suppose one text message couldn't hurt...

And with that thought, my fingers slowly started to move over the letters.

Me: Unless you're confirming that you're sick in the head, would you care to elaborate?

Once I sent the message, I barely had to wait a nanosecond before three new messages appeared right after one another.

Natalie: I've got a really nasty cold. I can barely get out of bed.

Natalie: I could really use some help, Sophie.

Natalie: Please?

Immediately an alarm bell went off in my head to warn me that there was a high chance he was lying. I mean, he was so full of life yesterday, and now he was suddenly sick. It had suspicious written all over it.

I was about to type back that I wasn't born yesterday and that he wasn't going to trick me into walking into his apartment, but then I paused.

What if he was telling the truth? What if he really was sick? I frowned as a horrible image of Nathan shivering, all cold and alone in bed, came to mind. It wasn't like he had a roommate or any friends besides me. And he had tirelessly looked after me both times I was injured.

My heart turned over in guilt as I thought of more, and more horrendous scenarios. Then without even thinking, my fingers started to rapidly move over the keypad.

Me: Okay, I'll be over in 10.

As soon as I sent the message, I stared back at it with a heavy sigh. That text message undeniably proved one hard cold true fact - Nathan Woods had me wrapped around his finger.

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With a heavy sigh, I came to a stop outside the door of Nathan's apartment. I tried to talk myself out of coming around five or so times on my walk here, but for some reason, I kept walking. It was like he had some weird Jedi mind powers over me or some shit.

I pressed the doorbell and awkwardly shuffled from foot to foot as I waited for him to come to the door. In no time at all, almost as though he was waiting on the other side of the door for me; his apartment door swung wide open.