Only, it wasn’t. Or I wouldn’t be feeling like I was abandoned or treated like a dildo.
I grab my phone from my jeans that I clearly left on the floor, but they’re now neatly folded and placed on the chair along with my shirt and boxer briefs.
Why would he even do this?
If he’s going to pretend he doesn’t give a fuck, he should go all the way, be a dick like he truly is.
My fingers pause when I find a string of texts from him. Most of them were sent throughout the evening, from when I was heading to the arena.
Preston
Fine, you win. I’m texting first. Don’t ignore me.
I clearly told you NOT to ignore me, Marcus. You know how easily I get murderous.
Not that I’m threatening you. Is that why you’re mad? Because I threatened you in the rink?
Great. I’ll just hang around in your inbox. My new favorite place.
That was sarcasm.
He stopped for a while, then about an hour later, he sent new ones.
Preston
Are you seriously training with Dicky and co? You’re supposed to be training with me.
Yes, I’m outside the shitty arena. You better come out.
I’ll murder your entire team, Marcus. You know I will.
Wait. You’ll probably hate me more if I do that. Fuck this shit.
Fine. I’ll go to your place. You better come right now and not make me stand in that hazardous neighborhood for long.
He stopped for a bit, then sent a lone text around the time Iwas riding.
Preston
If you stop being mad, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.
And then I find the text he sent just now.
Preston
It’s better if we’re nothing, Marcus. Believe me, you don’t ever want to be something with someonelike me.
27
MARCUS
“What do you think?”
My sister’s voice sounds smooth on the other end of the phone as I stop my bike right in the heart of her town.
Or specifically, near the parking lot of the club the Vipers flock to after every game.
I turn off the engine. “It sounds like you’re asking for my opinion.”
