AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Rather than chase after her, I stopped and turned around. We’d already run this scene before. I wasn’t easily deterred, but I also wasn’t so desperate that I’d let her continue to mop up the ring with my face.
Fine. If she really didn’t give a shit about me, I’d go home and beat off or beat myself into unconsciousness with my weight bag. I’d blare Oblivion’s new CD and zone out. Maybe I’d drink myself to sleep. One way or another, I would get myself to a place where I didn’t care about Mia or Ame or whoever the hell she was.
Then she called my name.
“Tray.”
And like a goddamn sucker—or a guy with a brick in his pants—I turned around.
We stared at each other across the distance of a few feet. Flyaway strands of her hair clung in icy chunks to her cheeks. She kept rubbing her bare fingers together, probably to generate warmth. Naturally she hadn’t zipped up my coat. But she was still wearing it.
She was still all wrapped up in me, whether she wanted to be or not.
I tucked my chapped hands in the pockets of my hoodie and waited. If she didn’t say something damn impressive, I was out of there. Even masochists had limits.
“You really think I can invite you over when my sister’s there?”
That was not what I meant by impressive.
I started walking back toward Vinnie’s. She could sing my name to the tune of the “Star Spangled Banner” and I wasn’t turning toward her again.
So what did she do?
She called me. Fucking called me. With the number I’d given her.
I could’ve ignored it. If I had, my sanity probably would’ve had a better chance at remaining intact. But where was the fun in that?
Without saying hello, I lifted my phone to my ear. And waited.
“Tray, don’t be stubborn.”
“You’re wasting my minutes.”
She snorted, obviously not the least bit concerned about appearing ladylike. Hell if I didn’t admire her for that. I admired her for too much, including not giving in to me. It probably made me seem like a world-class dickhead—I probably was one—but I couldn’t remember a woman ever turning me down before. Even in jest.
“Sure thing, richie rich. Don’t want to screw up your budget plan.”
“No, you’d rather screw with my head. You want me. You don’t want me. You know what? Maybe you’re not worth the trouble.”
I knew it was the wrong thing to say the instant the words were out. But I couldn’t take them back.
She sucked in a sharp breath. Then the phone clicked off.
I rubbed my eyes and cursed. The wound I’d just given her wouldn’t leave a mark, but it would scar just the same.
Goddammit.
Without thinking twice, I charged after her. Panic clogged my throat when she didn’t appear in the swarm of people still roaming the block even at this late hour, but then I caught sight of her coat.
My coat. Mine.
Goddammit.
I wanted her to be mine, and that was the whole problem. Me, the guy who’d never cared about any of that stuff before, who just waited for chicks to fall into my lap before I pushed them back out again, now wanted the one thing I couldn’t have.
Shutting my eyes for a second, I blocked it all out. None of that was important at the moment. I had to convince her I hadn’t meant what I’d
said. She was worth the trouble.
