And then there’s a girl.
Yes, a fuckinggirl,who’s wearing a little black dress that’s short and sultry. Her face is soft, and her coppery hair falls in waves to the middle of her back.
She’s exactly the type I’d imagine Preston having a relationship with.
This is my replacement?
I sneak between the cars, stopping close enough to hear them but far enough away to not be noticed.
“Thanks. For the water and coming along just now,” she says, her fingers shaking around the bottle of water she’s holding.
Even her voice sounds soft, and that irks me. Preston is straight, orwasstraight—he’s probably bi—but the reality is, he’s only ever been with women.
It’s possibly his default, and considering his categorical refusal of being gay, he’ll never start something with another dude, hencethegirl.
He can try with a thousand girls, but he’llneverget over what we have.
“Anytime.” He ruffles her hair—why the fuck is he touching her hair?“I’m the big, bad wolf everyone is scared of.Woo.Stay away if you don’t have a death wish and a need for a few broken face bones.”
She looks up at him with a kind of wonder, and I’m seconds away from ripping her eyeballs from their sockets. “Are you guys all this violent?”
“Sometimes? I’m still the prettiest, though.”
She smiles, and he grins. “There. Made you smile.”
Her expression brightens even more.
Why the fuck would he want to makehersmile?
I tap my thumb against my middle finger, considering all the options to make this nuisance disappear, but then Preston speaks again, dimples on full display for the fuckingginger.
He doesn’t even smile like that at me.
“What did you think of my game tonight?” he asks.
“You were great.”
“More passion, Vee. I know you only came to watch Jude, but give more importance to my godly energy on the ice.”
Vee. He calls her Vee.
Veronica? Vanessa? Doesn’t matter—the name would still look ugly on her fucking tombstone.
“Are you one of those girls who gets blind to everyone but their boyfriend?” he asks.
“Jude’s not my boyfriend.”
“Oh? Then what is he?”
“I’m not sure, to be honest.”
“Want me to ask on your behalf? Tell him to fuck off while I’m at it?”
“You don’t have to…”
“Well, fuck me all the way to Sunday. You like him that much?”
“I d-do not.”
