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Me:

Just flew back in. If you’re not busy tonight, swing by my place around nine.

He doesn’t respond right away, which isn’t a big deal—or so I tell myself. Declan keeps me distracted for a while as we message back and forth about the trip. I busy myself unpacking, tossing clothes into the wash, and grabbing a quick shower to scrub off the airport grime.

By the time I’ve dried off, though, Shilo still hasn’t replied. Blinking down at the screen, I brush my teeth slowly, unease coiling tighter with each passing moment.

Is he upset with me?

Of course, he is asshole. You kicked him out of the car after he cried during sex.

Fuck. I don’t know why it didn’t register that he’d been sobbing until this very moment, but now, I…

God, I’m the most selfish son of a bitch on the planet.

Grabbing my phone, I quickly type out another text, toothbrush hanging loosely from my lips.

Me:

Look, about last Friday. I’m sorry for the way I acted. Things just got a bit deep, and it messed with my head. I promise it won’t happen again.

Can I promise that, though? I don’t know. But I can try. Fuck, I’ll try.

He reads it almost instantly and responds a second later.

Dollface:

Going out with Kansas, Tina and Carpenter tonight.

That’s it. That’s all he says. No acknowledgment of my apology, no explanation. Nothing.

Who the fuck is Carpenter?

With a growl, I pull up KC’s number and ask him that very question.

Me:

Who the fuck is Carpenter?

KC:

My roommate, why? Also hi :)

Me:

Where are you going with Shilo?

Tossing my toothbrush into the sink, I swish and spit some mouthwash, absolutely livid.

KC:

Hmm, this is the second time you’ve asked that, and I’m starting to catch a vibe. Swear to God, if you’re the reason he’s looked like a kicked puppy all week, I’ll put laxatives in your coffee.

Me:

Where, KC?

KC: