Desperately Devastated (Addicted To You, Book Nine)

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Now all I had to do was figure out what I was going to wear to this thing. I was assuming it was very businesslike. I did have some dressy clothes that I’d brought with me, but I wasn’t sure if any of them were professional enough. I couldn’t look like I was going to some high school formal. The people at the kickoff meeting were going to be high-powered executives and doctors. And while there was no way I was going to be able to compete with the Gucci and Prada they were sure to be wearing, I could at least make sure I didn’t look like a kid.

 

I pawed through the back of my closet where I’d hung my semi-nice clothes. I sighed as I pulled out a black dress. It was cute, but it was from Forever 21. Something told me that wearing Forever 21 to a kick off meeting for a new study for an actual drug that could be on the market wasn’t really going to fly.

 

I wondered if maybe Rachel had something I could wear.

 

I opened our door.

 

“Hey, Rach!” I yelled down the hall.

 

She stuck her head out of the bathroom. “Yeah?”

 

“Do you have anything that’s appropriate to wear to a business function in New York?”

 

“I dunno. You can look through my closet.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

I went back into the bedroom and opened her closet. It was much fuller than mine. Her clothes were arranged by the color of the rainbow – red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, brown, black.

 

Everything was hanging neatly, but it was so packed full that I was having a hard time finding anything. I started flipping through the clothes, wishing she’d decided to categorize them based on occasion rather than color.

 

My phone started ringing, and I reached for it, answering it as I pawed through Rachel’s closet.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey,” Justin said on the other line. Just the sound of his voice gave me goose bumps. I had a flash of us laying in bed together, his hands slipping low into my pants, his fingers grazing the inside of my thighs. I shivered.

 

“Hi,” I said.

 

“We still on for dinner?”

 

Dinner. Crap. “Oh,” I said. “Um, about that…”

 

“You’re not cancelling on me,” he said. He lowered his voice so that it sounded even more sexy and deep than usual. “I have big plans for us.”

 

“What kind of big plans?”

 

“The kind of plans that involve lots of kissing and touching and definitely don’t involve clothes.”

 

My face flushed. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah. It’s a promise. So I’ll come and pick you up at eight.”

 

“I can’t.”

 

There was a long pause. “Why not?” he asked, finally.

 

“I just… something came up with school.”

 

“What kind of something?” he asked suspiciously.

 

“I have to go to New York City. There’s this conference for the drug I’ve been working on and they need me to help out.” I had flipped through most of Rachel’s clothes and she didn’t have anything for me to wear. What was I going to do? I wondered if I had time to run out and buy a dress or a suit or something.

 

“Who’s ‘they’?” Justin demanded.

 

“Who’s who?”

 

“Who are you going with?”

 

“Oh. Um, Dr. Klaxton. And Carter.”

 

“Carter? The guy who caught you when you almost passed out? Oh, hell no.

 

You’re not going, Lindsay.”

 

“I have to!”

 

“No.” His voice was firm and commanding. “You’re not going anywhere with that douchebag. You’re mine. And you’re not going anywhere with some other guy.”

 

“He’s not some other guy,” I said. “He’s my boss.”

 

Justin scoffed. “He’s not your boss, Lindsay. And you’re not going to New York with him.”

 

“I have to,” I said. “I need to prove myself.”

 

“To Carter?”

 

“No, not to Carter.” I spotted a black dress way in the back of Rachel’s closet, and I yanked at the hanger. I held it up in front of me. It was a faux wrap dress, with a cinched waist and a slightly flared skirt. It was stylish and chic, without looking old ladyish. It could definitely work. I let out a sigh of relief.

 

“Then to who?” Justin asked.

 

“Who what?”

 

“Who do you have to prove yourself to?”

 

“Dr. Klaxton.”

 

“Another guy,” Justin grumbled.

 

“Justin – “

 

“I’m going with you.”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m going with you. To New York.”

 

“That’s crazy.”

 

“I’m not leaving you with some guy who wants to get in your pants. I’m going with you, or you’re not going.” He sounded like he meant it.

 

“You can’t,” I said. “We’re leaving tonight.”

 

“So I’ll leave tonight,” he said. “What’s your flight number? I’ll book the ticket right now.”

 

I couldn’t lie – I loved that he was being so protective of me, that he didn’t want me going to New York alone with Carter. And the thought of Justin being with me, looking out for me, gave me a flush of pleasure. I wanted to finish what we’d started in my bed yesterday. I wanted him close to me. I always wanted him close to me. But could he really come with me? It didn’t make any sense.

 

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