Page 23 of Left In The Dark

He won’t give up, because he’s embarrassed himself enough as it is and is determined to come back from the inner shame somehow. To really be the one who wins in the end. This isn’t his game, though, and he’s too self-absorbed to see that. Blake Mitchell doesn’t get turned down. Having it happen is making him work harder to ensure it doesn’t continue.

“So, you got dinner plans?”

“Yes,” I say a little too quickly, keeping my gaze forward and shoving my hands in my pockets. My eyes track the numbers on the screen, my heart thumping harder the more I stand here. If only I had some way to speed this up somehow and avoid another round of small talk with him.

“Oh, that’s cool. What are you doing after?”

The pump stops, making a loud clicking sound. “Bye, Blake.”

“Yeah okay, see ya—”

I cut off the rest of his words as I shut myself in my car. He’s standing with his shoulders slumped, watching me as I pull away, so desperate for acknowledgement and an ego boost. So, so desperate. He’s not going to get it from me. I should never have begun to entertain him in the first place. Now I just have more work ahead of me. It’s okay, though. I enjoy seeing him look like some kicked puppy—beautifully dejected. He’s so used to everyone catering to his whims, and eager to be where he is when I keep shutting him down.

I keep seeing those downturned eyes and his confused face in my mind. I keep seeing him sulking and silently begging me to come back. It’s becoming addicting. This newfound power. This feeling I get from being the one who has something he wants—something only I can give him. The longer you go without getting what you’re after, the more your need for it grows. I’ll ensure his need for me keeps growing in the right direction, offering him one tiny crumb at a time and always holding back.

He won’t stop coming for it either, not when he thinks he’s so close to having his way. He really does believe he’ll eventually get his way, and as long as he thinks that, the longer I’ll be able to use his theory against him.

The grocery store parking lot is nearly empty when I arrive, and when I walk inside I go right to the baking aisle, before hopping on over to the dairy section next. I check my phone, making sure my mom doesn’t need anything else before hauling my basket toward the checkout.

The cashier greets me with a smile, slowly scanning my items and motioning to where I can set my basket. How did I forget? It’s going to be a while before I find my groove here again.

My card threatens to slip from my fingers when Blake strolls through the double doors, eyes widening in my direction. His lips press tightly together and there’s a look of struggle on his face. He stares in my direction a little longer, before waving at the women standing behind the pharmacy counter, and as he waits for his prescription to be filled, he rocks on his feet, head moving from side to side as he stops himself from looking back at me.

He’s waiting for his hi. The redhead hands him his bag, and when my transaction goes through, I snatch my groceries from the belt.

“Thank you.” I run my eyes over the smiling woman’s badge. “Claire.”

“You’re welcome.”

As I’m walking out, another person I went to high school passes me by. A cheerleader who got along with just about everyone, not ever making one enemy. It’s not that easy for everyone. Smiling and friendliness only went so far for me when it came to certain people.

“Hi there, Laura. Long time, no see.” My gaze bounces between her and Blake.

“Hey . . .” She blinks, and recognition doesn’t settle in her eyes for a long moment, but when it does, her face brightens. “Oh my god. Logan, is that you?” Leaning back, she looks me over. “I can’t believe it. You look incredible. College life suits you.”

“Thanks. I actually decided to go another route, though, and you don’t look so bad yourself,” I say in a flirty tone, catching more of Blake’s attention as he opens a nearby cooler, fetching himself a Pepsi as he wonders why her and not him.

“Are you here for good?”

“I am.” I move my bags to my other wrist. “Missed being home and actually just got hired at the police station in town.”

“No way.” She lightly slaps a hand to my shoulder and I swear I can feel Blake’s eyes burning a hole in the back of my head. “That’s amazing,” she continues. “Congratulations. Are you doing anything to celebrate tonight?”

“Yeah. Me and Jimmy are going out for drinks. Not sure where yet but it’s not like we have many options.” I let out a half-hearted laugh.

“Oh, fun. Maybe I can join y’all. Here, take my number and hit me up later when you figure out all the details. I’d love to catch up.” She hands me a business card reading Laura’s Baked Goods at the top.

“Yeah, definitely. You have your own bakery?” My fingers flex along the corners of the card.

“Kinda. I’m only just getting started, but if you need a cake or cookies for an upcoming party, I’m your girl.” Her eyes sparkle, traveling down my body again. What’s with all these people who once had better options suddenly taking an interest in me? Have they run out over the years? Like fuck, if someone told me all I had to do was leave and come back in order to have better luck in the dating department, I would have done it a long time ago.

I have zero interest in her in that way, though, or anyone at the moment, for that matter. Too many other opportunities in front of me to waste my time on some quick lay or dates that won’t lead very far. Women like this have never been my type anyway. Though I consider myself bi, I’ve only ever taken an interest in one girl and . . . well, I guess I’ve only found myself attracted to one guy too.

What I’ve experienced with Blake isn’t as simple as that, though. To most he’s a catch, and breathtaking, but to me he’s only pretty when he’s breaking. When he’s beside himself and looking dejected. I’m drawn to that sadness and anguish in his eyes, so much that I want to make him smile just so I can take it away all over again.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking toward the row of baskets. “I better get going. Don’t want to fall behind on my first few orders.”