Not Looking for Love: Episode Two: Not Looking for Love, #2

By Lena Bourne

Episode Two of the Not Looking for Love series. For the full enjoyment of the series please start with Not Looking for Love Episode One, as this is an ongoing series.

Running away is usually not the answer.

Gail is back at school, and all she wants to do is spend her days studying and not thinking about anything else. But things keep piling up until running away and burying her problems is no longer a viable option. Will Gail realize she needs to confront her feelings head on, or never be whole again? Or will she continue to deny love?

Intended for mature audiences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lena Bourne
• Release date: Jan 4, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393214823

Lena Bourne

About the Author: Lena Bourne writes stories about independent and smart women who mean everything to the strong men they love. If you're looking for deep emotions, hot bedroom scenes, and some suspense thrown in, look no further than her books. Connect with Lena: www.lenabourne.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lenabourneauthorTwitter: https://twitter.com/Lena_Bourne

Book preview

Chapter One

I cross the state line and all of a sudden, it’s like I’m watching the road through a shaking, water filled rubber tube. My heart is racing, cramps shooting up into my left shoulder. It’s like my mind’s stuck in a nightmare and masked murderers are chasing me, only I’m awake.

I pull off the freeway and into the parking lot of a gas station, trying to take deep breaths, but they all stick in my throat and I can’t get any oxygen. The world spins violently, until all I see is thick, velvety blackness closing in from the sides, pressure rising in my head.

Relax, Gail. It’s just a panic attack. I’m trying to convince myself, but the voice sounds like Scott’s and that shouldn’t be so. The realization works to calm me like someone emptied a bucket of ice water over my head.

I’m shaking all over, and my knuckles are white from clutching the steering wheel so hard. I release it, my numb fingers tossing stuff out of my purse, looking for the phone. My hand is shaking as I scroll through the unanswered calls list. My thumb hovers over Scott’s number. I can’t press call and I can’t let go of the phone. The scary blackness comes back, swallows the eerie, two-dimensional twilit world outside.

I can’t do this. I won’t call him. I ended it for good this time.

I repeat those words in my head until they start to make sense, until I believe them. The world is dark for real when I finally drop the phone onto the passenger seat, and start the engine. I’m going back to school, and crazy, messed-up, unstable Gail is staying behind in New York. Hopefully, she’ll be dead and gone by the next time I return home.

It’s only a quarter past nine when I get to my house in Connecticut, but all the windows are dark, except for the yellowish candlelight flickering in the living room. There’s a strange car in the driveway, and I park next to it. I start unloading my bags, making a lot of noise and hoping my roommate Phillipa and whoever she has over will hear me.

For a few minutes I stand there in the dark, debating whether I should carry everything around the back and enter through the kitchen, but I have my entire wardrobe with me, and most of my books, and I’m already nauseous from lifting it all from the trunk.

I’m home! I yell into the dark house as soon as I open the door.

Instrumental music is playing in the living room, which has no doors, so I will have to walk right past it. I pile all my stuff just inside the door, and walk closer to the living room.

Phillipa, are you here?

No reply, but I hear her laugh over the music. I really should have called first. I bend over to collect my purse, thinking maybe I could still call, but the movement sends nausea into my throat. Hand clutched tightly over my mouth, I sprint past the living room and to the bathroom, where I throw up in the sink because I can’t even make it to the toilet. I haven’t eaten much today, so only a watery, burning mess comes up.

When I exit the bathroom, Phillipa is standing in the hall, buttoning up her shirt. Behind her on the sofa, a voluptuous girl is combing her thick dark hair out with her fingers.

Gail? I didn’t expect you today, Phillipa says.

I smile, and look at the floor, so she won’t feel too embarrassed. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, I should have called and let you know.

I didn’t because then this whole going back to school thing would be too permanent, and Mom would really be gone.

Phillipa closes the distance between us and puts her hand on my shoulder. And your mother, Gail?

I look up into her eyes, which are glistening with tears, but I have none of my own.

We buried her last week, I say, because somehow that’s not the same as saying she’s dead.

Phillipa wraps her arms around me so tight I can’t get a good breath in. I’m so sorry, Gail.

Her hair smells of a fruity shampoo, and her breasts are soft against my own. She feels entirely different than hugging Scott, and that’s about all I can think of.

I’ll be OK, I mutter, and I’m not sure if I’m telling her, or convincing myself.

Her date is standing in the entrance to the living room now, biting her nails and looking at me with narrowed eyes.

I pull away from Phillipa and pull down my sweater to have something to do with my hands. I’m sorry I interrupted your date.

That’s alright, Phillipa says. Come, have a drink with us. This is Holly, by the way.

I walk over to her and extend my hand. Gail.

She takes my hand limply, and lets go immediately.

I turn back to Phillipa. Thanks for the offer, but I think I’ll just go to sleep. It’s been a long day.

Phillipa is still looking at me like I might break at any moment, but I don’t feel a thing beyond embarrassment, and a slight annoyance at the way Holly is still eyeing me like she wants to pull my hair and slap me.

I’ll see you tomorrow, I say and walk up the stairs, leaving all my suitcases by the door. I’ll probably just throw up again, if I try to carry them upstairs.

My room is over the kitchen and not the living room, so I shouldn’t be able to hear a thing. It smells like paint and dust, and I open the window wide as soon as I enter it. Crickets are chirping in the bushes and stars are twinkling in the sky. I yearn to get in my car and drive to the beach, any beach, but there’s none near where I am now.

I change into a pair of winter pajamas I left here, and climb under the covers, keeping the windows open. I wish I could imagine my mom as one of the bright stars in the sky, the way she tried to get me to imagine Grandpa when he died. But that was just a silly childish thing, and it didn’t even work then.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, I finally give up and dig through my purse for the sleeping pills Dad gave me. A nearly empty packet of birth control pills falls out with it. Only seven days worth are left, and I can’t remember the last time I took one, though I’m pretty good at taking them regularly. I also can’t remember when I had my last period. I squeeze a pill out to take now, then decide to just wait for my period and then start afresh then.

I do take the sleeping pill though, and it works almost instantly, transporting me straight through that soft, cloudy state right before dreams come, into a deep sleep.

Chapter Two

I wake up at dawn, shivering from the cold because I slept with the window open. Holly’s car is gone from the driveway, and the house is silent.

I tiptoe down to the kitchen, and bring up my bags. My stomach is twisting painfully by the time I’m done, like I should throw up, but there’s nothing to do that with. The nausea is probably just the effect of taking a sleeping pill on an empty stomach.

When I enter the kitchen again, Phillipa has coffee going.

Good morning, she mumbles and yawns widely. How did you sleep?

Fine. You?

She holds out a cup of coffee to me, and the smell makes me retch, but I swallow the bile.

I take the coffee but don’t drink it, scanning the kitchen for something to eat that doesn’t make me sick on sight. There’s a box of corn flakes on the counter and I pour some into a bowl, but don’t add any milk.

I’ll go shopping after class today, I say, since I’m eating Phillipa’s food and drinking her coffee.

Luckily, the cereal stays put, and my stomach is no longer cramping.

If you ever want to just talk I’m here, Gail, you know that, she says, sipping her coffee and studying me over the rim.

I take a swallow of my own coffee. I do, Phillipa. But I just don’t know what to say, really.

My mom is gone forever, but here, in this house where she never lived, it’s easier to keep that terrible thought at a distance. Talking about it would just bring it all here.

Do you think they’ll just let me pick up the classes? I ask to change the subject. I missed enrollment, and I did tell them I won’t be back this semester.

Phillipa shrugs. You only missed a few weeks, so I see no reason why they shouldn’t let you enroll now.

I hope she’s right, but the paperwork is always so tedious and illogical. I’m getting nauseous just thinking about spending the rest of the day running from office to office and getting everything sorted. But it’s better than sitting alone in an empty house, thinking of things I never wanted to even imagine in the first place.

I drink the last of my coffee and rise. I should get started, or this day will never be over.

Up in my room, I check my phone for calls or messages, but apart from Dad’s text that he landed safely there’s nothing. I fight the disappointment, but it’s there, settled in my stomach like a snowball. But why would Scott call at seven in the morning? He’s not the mental one, I am.

The rest of the morning passes in a blur of stuffy offices and whiny ladies telling me it’s highly irregular for me to enroll so late in the semester. By noon, I’m dangerously close to screaming at the next one who tells me it might not even be possible.

They finally relent, saying they’ll run the paperwork through if I get permission from all my

Reviews for Not Looking for Love

[Kaye · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

ONE IMPRESSIVE JOURNEY!!!
Exceptional! Lena nailed this baby to the wall, clinched every emotion, ramping up this impressive storyline, gripping plot and melding this baby together piece by jagged piece seamlessly. It doesn't get much better than this, all the drama, intrigue, tension, tension and suspense, propelling this baby to life beautifully. Add distress, turmoil, distrust and unexpected situations along with a double-dose of trouble, you have one chart topping, prize winning adventure. One tumultuous wild ride, kicking this gem into overdrive, thrusting it into a tizzy with a life altering mind-blowing culmination. Showcasing incredible, well rounded scenario's, ramping up the exuberance and gaiety, testing our characters in ways they could have never anticipated. The undeniable attraction and intense chemistry sizzles as each layer is peeled back exposing a deep connection and amplifying affections, binding them together perfectly. The characters are authentic and realistic with depth and qualities that transform into outstanding personalities. The scenes are abundantly detailed and descriptive as to give you an understanding and realism that flows smoothly. Remarkable job Lena, thanks for sharing this little gem with us.