“Damn. Gorgeous and generous? Must be my lucky day.” He shoots me a seductive grin before retreating down the hall.
Something about him reminds me of Will. Maybe it’s the dimples, the attitude, or merely the way he carries himself. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I instantly want to smack myself for thinking about he-who-shall-not-be-named. I’ve tried everything. Deleting his number. Avoiding him like the plague. Nothing worked.
No matter what I do, I can’t shake him.
Next step is putting a penny into a jar every time I let him in. Or getting one of those elastic bracelets you snap on your wrist.
Sauntering to Zoey’s bedroom, I give Morgan her food and plop down on the bed next to her. Zoey pads into the bedroom in a towel fifteen minutes later. She hasn’t even taken two bites of her fried rice before she’s slapping foundation onto her bare face. Because, you know… priorities.
“So… Kass?” She winces mid-eyeliner-application. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Why do I feel like I’m going to be pissed?
“What?”
“Promise you won’t be mad.”
I brace myself for the worst. “Zoey, what did you do?”
“I might’ve… sort of slipped up when I was inviting people to the party.”
That’s all it takes.
She invited Will, didn’t she?
“You didn’t,” I beg.
“I’m sorry. It’s just… I invited this cute Alex guy because he’s single and I have a friend I want to set up and… Will was there. What was I going to do? Only invite his friend and tell him to shove it?”
I don’t bother arguing, falling backward onto Zoey’s unmade bed and groaning into my hands. I fessed up to the girls about what happened at the tree house. Morgan, being her supportive self, made a priority of telling me I deserved better every five seconds. As for Zoey, well…
We all know how that turned out.
Either way, I’ll be seeing Will tonight.
Will
“How the hell are you still going? You should be on the floor,” Blake accuses, ironically leaping off the mat himself. Wiping the drizzle of sweat off his forehead with a towel, he feels his jaw with a wince. Can’t blame him. I wouldn’t have wanted to be on the receiving end of that last punch.
“What? Am I too much for you, grandma?” I taunt.
“He’s right,” Alex cuts in from outside the arena. “What’s up with you? You juicing or something?”
“I told you, I just got a shit ton of energy lately,” I lie, watching Blake slink out of the ring. “Hey! Where are you going?”
“Where do you think?” He snorts. “It’s been five hours. I’m going home and taking a fucking shower.” Blake grabs his shit, heading for the exit.
“Coward,” I call, and he flips me off as he walks. “Alex, you down?”
“I’m good.” Alex shakes his head. “Think I’m going to bail, too.”
Kendrick skipped training again today. The fight with Haze will soon be at our door, but Blake insists Kendrick isn’t ready to slide back into his routine and get his hands dirty.
I think Kendrick’s fine, but Blake has been in the game longer than any of us have—although he doesn’t measure up to Kendrick or me in the ring. If Blake says to rest, Kendrick rests. It’s slowly eating at my sanity. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say Blake is betting against us.
“You should do the same. Take a shower so you don’t smell like ass tonight,” Alex advises.
“Why? What’s tonight?”
“Are you shitting me? You were there when she invited us.”
I frown. “Who?”
“Zoey.”
It clicks in my mind.
“Zoey… as in Kass’s friend?”
“Yeah. It’s her birthday. She’s got an entire club waiting for us. She knows the owner.”
Right. She came up to us in the hall earlier. I didn’t listen to a single word coming out of her mouth, lost in my head.
“Who’s going to be there?” I ask.
Alex begins listing people I couldn’t give less of a shit about. Then he says the name I’ve been secretly waiting to hear.
Kass’s.
It may sound stupid, because of course she’d attend her best friend’s birthday, but I needed to hear him say it.
“Between us, you could stand to get laid, dude. You’ve been training twice every day this week. Get a life,” Alex mocks.
Oh, the irony. He has no idea I’ve been training every single day precisely because I need to get laid.
Jesus Christ, I’m horny.
Going from having sex regularly to not at all will do that to you. Had to find an outlet for all that frustration. Fighting seems to be the only thing that takes my mind off it. It’s more a temporary fix than a cure, really, but I’ll take anything I can get.
To my surprise, I didn’t hit up Callie—or any of the other girls who could’ve easily helped me with my blue-balls problem. Tried to scratch the itch myself, hoping it’d do the trick.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t.
The way I left things with Kass hasn’t exactly been helping. This fucking girl could give me blue balls for weeks.
“So, you coming?” Alex questions, slinging his gym bag strap over his shoulder.
I shrug. “Meh. I’ll let you know.”
I highly doubt Kass wants me there, if her ghosting me is anything to go by. Alex nods, walking out of the crass building I’ve grown to know like the back of my hand.
I wait for the roar of his car to fade into the distance and hurry toward the old gym’s showers. The plumbing screeches a high-pitched, hissing sound when I flick the faucet on, leaving me to wonder if this is the day a pipe finally bursts in my face.
I could probably shower at Alex’s, but I’ll die before letting the guys find out about my situation. Before I let anyone find out. I don’t need them. I’ll figure it out on my own.
I always do.
I strip naked, my muscles sore from the five hours I spent wiping my hands with Blake, and toss my phone onto a nearby bench before entering the water.
She hasn’t texted me today.
Or yesterday.
Or the day before that.
Not that I’m surprised. I deserve every bit of her silent treatment. As much as I hate to admit it, I almost texted her a few times. Caught myself wishing I could tell her whenever something funny happened.
I think… I kind of miss her?
I promised myself I wouldn’t touch her again, but… she was standing there, looking at me with those big blue, teary eyes, and it triggered something in me.
It gutted me.
Made me want to fix it.
Then she started sobbing in my arms, and every atom in my body spurred to life, begging me to make it stop. So, when she flat out asked me to, I did the only thing I could think of.
Kissing her was the plan.
Almost fingering her wasn’t.
Shit, what are you doing to me, control freak?
I should’ve had more self-control, kept my mouth—and my hands—to myself. I can still feel how wet she was. I wasn’t even touching her, and she was ready for my…