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“Hey.”
I groaned when I heard Tackle’s voice just as I was about to get into my car. “What?” I said without turning around to look at him. I jerked away when I felt his hand on my shoulder.
“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”
“Why?”
“Sloane. Look at me.”
Instead, I got in the car. He grabbed the door before I could close it.
“Leave me alone, Tackle,” I snapped.
“Hot and cold much?”
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re accusing me of running hot and cold? That’s rich.”
“Yeah, I am. One minute, you’re sucking my cock, and the next, you’re blocking my calls again.”
“You’re such an asshole. Let go of the door.”
“No. I want some answers. Are you seriously pissed because I left Sunday morning?”
“Not at all. I was glad you were gone.”
“Is it because I was gentleman enough to get out of bed when I knew you didn’t feel well?”
“Here’s the deal, Sorenson. I’m not pissed. In fact, I couldn’t care less if I ever see or talk to you again.”
“I don’t believe that shit for a hot minute.”
“Again, I don’t care.” I pulled my phone out. “Either let go, or I’ll call security.”
He took a step back. “We’re not finished,” I heard him say before I slammed the door.
“Oh yes, we are,” I responded, not caring whether he could hear me or not. I put the car in gear and pulled out of the space. This time when I looked in the rearview mirror, instead of seeing him hugging another woman, I saw a very angry man.
14
Tackle
If there were a playbook for how not to handle things with Sloane, I was following all the don’ts to the letter.
First, I’d left Sunday morning without waking her to tell her or even leaving a note. Why? Because I figured it would be easier than lying to her when she asked where I was going.
Then I stopped by her parents’ house and when her mother said that it sounded as though Sloane had started to run a bath, came up with the lame excuse that I wanted to have a meeting with her father about Abdul Ghafor. Now, here I was, with no real reason for wanting to meet, after having managed to piss Sloane off even more.
This was why I didn’t do relationships. Trying to spend time with someone on a regular basis was more damn trouble than it was worth. And Sloane? God, I couldn’t keep up with her mood swings. I probably shouldn’t have said the thing about her sucking my cock, but it was true. One second, she wanted me, the next, she didn’t.
If this were any other woman, she would never hear from me again. Literally. But this was Sloane, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stay away. Even now, in the back of my mind, I was trying to come up with another way to get her to talk to me.
And then there was Nick. If only Sloane wanted me the way Nick did, the tables sure would turn. I’d be sick of her in a hot minute.
The only reason I’d agreed to meet with the other woman in person was to get her off my ass and convince her to leave me out of her fucked-up life. Instead of achieving either of those things,
I seemed to have made Nick more determined than ever to spend every moment she could with me.
Kind of like I was being with Sloane. Jeez. Was it the same? Was I as annoying?
