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“Like what? I wouldn’t know because you don’t talk to me! We haven’t fucked in over a month; I haven’t seen you all week. When we’re together you’re quiet and all you want to do is sleep!” She’s driving me nuts. I seriously don’t know why the fuck she’s casting me out.

“Is that all it’s about for you? Sex?”

“That’s all you got out of that?” I shake my head and grit my teeth. “No, Shay, it’s not about sex, but when it comes to you, I want to have sex because I’m in love with you, and I want that fucking connection. I want to hold your hand while we walk down the street and laugh with you on a date in a restaurant. I want to dance with you in the kitchen while you cook for me. Fuck, I just want to be within touching distance of you!” I ramble off my rant, half of the things I’m saying sound cheesy as fuck, but I really don’t give a flying rats ass. I pull into my parking spot, while she says nothing. Not a damn thing. Just staying silent like she has for the past few weeks.

“Fuck it! Clearly you don’t want me around. I’ll just go out with Kingston, have a good night, sweetheart!” I end the call, pushing the end button on my touch screen with force; I’m surprised it doesn’t crack. Rubbing my hands over my mouth and contemplating what to do next. I call Kingston, I need to get out and get fucking wasted. I defended her back there, told my therapist she had good reason, so why am I the one getting treated like shit? I thought she could respect the fact that I wanted to make things right with Gwen, for my dad—for me.

“Yo.” Kingston’s muffled voice echoes through the Bluetooth, telling me he is shoving his face with some sort of food. Fucker is always eating.

“I need to go out tonight and fucking drink. You in?”

“Don’t have to ask me twice—yes! The boys are back! Where you at?” he asks. I hear ruffling in the background and then the sound of our apartment door shutting.

“I’m in the parking garage. Let’s get a cab. Hurry down and I’ll call.”

“Fuck yeah, on my way.”

Within twenty minutes we are in a downtown bar filled with loud music and city life. I’m already on my second beer; my first one chugged down in thirty seconds.

“Spill, what the fuck happened?” Kingston asks, eyeing me curiously while I tip my beer back and glance sideways at him, debating on if I should tell him.

“Your sister is acting so fucking weird. She won’t talk to me, dude, and when she does it’s ice cold.” He nods in understanding, pursing his lips.

“When did this start happening?” We’re interrupted by a bunch of hollering, turning our heads in the direction of the noise, we see a group of girls laughing and dancing together. I look back to him and continue with our conversation.

“Honestly, it started when Gwen came back in my life and every day it gets worse. I thought with us both working again that we would want to be spending as much time together as we could, but no, it seems to be totally fine with her.” My phone stops me when I feel it vibrate in my pocket. Reaching down, I grab it and unlock it when I see a message from Shayla.

Little Woman: Have fun out tonight, I like that you throw it in my face that you’re going to go out and party. Hopefully you don’t flirt too much.

I read the message over and over, and each time I do I become more angry.

Me: I said I was gonna go out, not party. I don’t plan on flirting with anyone. The one person I wanted to get into bed with tonight won’t give me the time of day, so…

I hate that we’re spewing so much venom at each other. This isn’t like us, but I have the urge to one up her, I’m fucking hurt.

Little Woman: If you really wanted that you wouldn’t go out and drink, you’re putting yourself in a situation where you could meet another woman and it could get out of hand.

Me: We may be fighting, but I would never cheat on you. Never would and don’t want to. I’m drinking with Kings so I can drown out the thought that my own fucking girl doesn’t want to touch me, let alone be around me. Don’t try and make me the bad guy here.

Turning the phone off, I slam it down on the bar top, done with the fucking conversation. I don’t want to say something I can’t take back.

“You all right there, cowboy?” he asks while lifting his hand to the bartender for another round.

“Yeah.” No.

“Listen, my sister’s been weird with us all, Lana and I were out last night and

she told me how worried she is about Shay. So I called Shay and she was quiet and distant with me, too. I don’t know what it is, but she’s going through some shit,” he says, turning his swinging chair in my direction.

“Well, I feel like she should tell me. Why does she feel the need to ignore me?” Not going to lie, this makes me feel even more disconnected. Why isn’t she telling me what’s going on? Better yet, how do we not know who we are anymore?

“You want some buff tattooed real talk?”

I smirk, staring at my beer bottle, wiping the condensation off the side. “Sure.”

“That’s your fucking woman, don’t let her push you away. You want her to open up to you and talk to you, then take it from me. I’ve been playing this game with Lana for months now and it takes fucking work. But one thing I never let her do is push me out completely. Sometimes, I have to sit her down and not let her leave until she tells me what’s going on, or sometimes I have to fuck her until she screams it out. Which, dude, I ain’t telling you to do that, but you get what I’m saying?” I nod. I wouldn’t mind doing that, but I’ll keep that to myself.

“At the end of the day, we may not be one hundred percent, but we at least fall asleep in the same bed together.” Squinting my eyes and giving him a sideways grin, I shake my head.

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