“Yeah? What’s his name then?” He asks, anger lacing his voice.
Shit.
“His name doesn’t concern you.”
“Because he isn’t real,” he laughs, tilting his head back. “You’ve made him up,” he points a finger to his head, tapping it. “It’s all in your imagination, Lilly.”
“Leave me alone, Kyle.” I walk away, glad he doesn’t follow.
Pulling the door open to my lecture building, his voice stops me for a second. “I won’t stop until you’re mine again, Lilly. I promise you that!” He shouts.
Well, it looks like he’s going to be waiting forever then because there’s not a chance in hell I’m going back to him. I’d rather endure a whole day with Elizabeth than ever take him back, and that’s saying something.
And now I’ve got to add interacting with Kyle to my never-ending list of reasons why today isn’t my day.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Chapter 11
Lilly
“Ugh, is he going to be much longer?” Lakelyn groans, tapping her manicured nails against the table.
Double tapping my phone screen, I look down at the time to see it’s ten minutes past the time Greyson was meant to be here for his interview. They had practice, but that ended almost an hour ago, which should’ve given him enough time to do everything he needed to do after.
Maybe he’s forgotten it’s his turn today, but then again, Coach Gillingham has been on their asses about presentation and making sure they not only show up on time but also don’t answer stupidly to the questions we’re asking.
“We’ll give him another five minutes,” tapping my pen against my notepad, I chew at my lip as I glance toward the door again. “And if he doesn’t show, we’ll pack up and leave.”
“Fine,” she smacks her gum. “But I’m out of here the minute it’s over,” she turns, grinning at me. “I have ahot date tonight.”
Just as I’m about to respond, the door slams against the wall and Greyson comes running in, his breath ragged like he just got done running a marathon.
“Oh, goody,” Lakelyn claps her hands in a sarcastic manor. “He finally decided to show his face.”
“Sorry,” Greyson winces as he walks closer and takes a seat opposite me. “Coach was going in on us about our game tomorrow.”
“That’s fine,” I smile at him. “We appreciate you even taking the time to do this.”
“Okay, first question,” Lakelyn leans her elbows on the table and rests her chin in the palm of her hands. “Are you single?”
He blinks, looking between her and me. I shove my shoulder against her, and she glares at me. I don’t know how many more times I have to remind her to stop asking them that question. Or any question that’s not related to the article.
“First thing’s first,” I say, bringing his attention to me. “Are there any topics off limits?”
“Uh, family.”
Likewise.
“Okay.” I nod.
“How come?” Lakelyn tilts her head to the side, pursing her lips.
Once again I’m nudging her shoulder. You can’t ask someone who’s just very clearly stated they don’t want to talk about family, why they don’t want to talk about it. She shoves my shoulder back, and leans back into the chair, folding her arms across her chest.
I want to slap her.
Taking a deep breath in, I release it and turn toward Greyson with a smile. “How did you get into hockey?” I ask, hovering my pen over the question written down in my notepad, ready to write down his answer.
