“Hold on,” I told my sister. “I’m not sure I want him to know I’m here.” I did look a hot mess after all, in my baseball cap and dusty softball team uniform.
“Girl, please.” She waved a dismissive hand my way. “It’s just Preston. If you haven’t fucked him again by now, I doubt it’s going to happen.”
Under normal circumstances, I’d agree. It wasjustPreston. But thatsexuation hadn’t been normal.One night. One fuck. That mantra had been plastered to my bathroom mirror for me to see every damn day since our hot bathroom romp. For the most part, myfuckirmation worked. After all, I excelled at compartmentalization. And I purposefully used other people as buffers. Because despite all my bravado, I wasn’t confident I could be alone with him and not want a repeat. Or athreepeat.
As if she read my mind, Blake tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and wiped my cheek. “You’re still fly. Grass in your hair and all.”
I rolled my eyes, patting my hair down as if that would help.
“He looks a little down, though,” Blake offered.
Turning, I took a moment to study him. My sister was right. From where I stood, I couldn’t see his face, but I did notice his slumped posture. It wasn’t like Preston to slouch, and I’d never known him to drink alone. “Give me a sec,” I told Blake. I shuffled over to him, wincing every time my left foot touched the hard floor. My body ached everywhere. Instead of coming to the bar, I should’ve taken my ass home to soak in the tub.
When I made it to the bar, I peered over at him. He didn’t even look up. He just sat there quietly, staring at the drink in front of him. Unmoving. Solemn.
The bartender walked over to me. “What can I get you?”
I glanced at Preston again and made a decision to try to make him laugh. So, I said, “I’ll have a margarita, light on the ice, heavy on the Patrón.”
Preston looked up then, his dark, sad gaze meeting mine.
I winked at him and was pleasantly surprised when the corner of his mouth quirked up. I grinned at him, then turned to the bartender. Pointing to Preston, I said, “I think he’s paying. Right?”
Preston’s low chuckle settled something in my stomach. “Right. Put it on my tab.”
I sat on the bar stool next to him. Slowly. “And keep them coming.”
Chapter Four
Come Through
Preston
“I’m waiting…”
“I’m still not telling you.” I laughed when she folded her arms over her chest and pouted. “No matter how many times you ask me.”
Dallas smacked her palm on the bar top. “Really?”
I glanced over at Dallas, raking my gaze over every inch of her. Even though she had grass in her hair and wore a dirty softball uniform, she still managed to redirect my thoughts from my fucked-up life to my dick. “Really,” I confirmed.
“Fine. If you won’t tell me what Cooper wants to talk to me about, I’ll leave it alone.”
“Good.” For the last several minutes, we’d gone back and forth about Cooper and hisnews. And every time she’d formulated an argument designed to convince me to reveal all, I’d told her the same thing—no.
She sighed. “He’s not answering my calls. Is it bad?”
I laughed. “I’m not answering that.”
“It’s bad.” She tapped her fingernails on the bar. “Is Angel pregnant?”
I shot her a sidelong glance. “What?”
“Is he sick or something?” was her next question.
“Dallas?”
“Huh?”
