AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Dylan
Rememberthatfive-minutecrushI had on Lake Decker?
Yeah, that shit's dead and gone.
As soon as I opened that door to greet him, I caught a whiff of his whole standoffish energy. It surprised me, the sudden change in attitude. In the note, he seemed so sweet and playful, calling me Chief and scolding me about the peephole. But once that door swung open, he shelled up.
He wouldn't even look me in the eyes. As if looking at my face would make me finally realize he was the soulmate I had been searching for my entire 26 years of life. Fuck all that.
One thing he has yet to learn is I'm not the one. I don't play these stupid games, and I definitely don't fall for cocky jocks who expect it. My life is chaotic enough. Tossing in a complicated game of cat and mouse with the ultimate predator is not in my playbook.
I'm too much of an adult for that. I've had to grow up in a handful of years, dealing with real responsibilities and finishing school on my own. I'm a board-certified PT with a goddamn master’s degree. You won't find me sitting here, twiddling my fingers and hoping Lake Decker likes me.
I had mistaken his kindness for more, yes it's true. But when he was touching me on that table, his firm hands sliding up my arms, creating warm waves of desire in their wake, looking me deep in my eyes with his gorgeous blues, the words of endearment leaving his lips...well, it felt different.
The concern, the need to understand me, the protectiveness, the care and attention to detail when it came to ordering the clothes, the undergarments, the shoes…
Shit! The shoes!
I sit back against the door in nothing but the white cashmere robe the hotel has so kindly provided, wishing I could run back out there and snatch those Nike trainers back up. They were so pretty and would've lasted far longer than any fling with that punk.
It was my mistake to have thought for even a second he could be a genuine person. The thing about people with money that you need to remember is that buying gifts is nothing for them. No skin off his back to have a couple of dollars thrown to a girl in the dumps. Lake said,Don't feel special. I'd do it for anyone.
And stale?! He called me stale. Stale? What does that even mean?!
The minute we walked into the dining hall, I almost collapsed with relief just to see Dr. Shelby standing at a nearby table.
Dr. Clark Shelby was the new director of sports medicine for the Chicago Bears. He also just so happened to be one of my professors in college. Apparently, he'd just accepted the job after Carey Mackenzie retired, leaving him in charge of all the trainers and therapists.
It thrilled me to see a familiar face I could embrace, leaving Lake searching for his little lost pet. Yeah, I saw him looking from across the room. Eyes endlessly scouring the place for me as I hid out with the players from the defensive team. Guess he expected me to be up his ass.
What really got me was his disgusting display of territorial alpha male when he approached the table. As if he was laying some kind of claim to the woman he couldn't even look in the eyes.
But the thing that truly sealed thefuck this dudedeal was the rude comment he made as I sat right there, directly in front of him.After that, anyone can have her.
What a shitty night, courtesy of a shitty guy. The only good thing that came from it was that I'd at least been able to market myself for a bit and make some new connections. Dr. Shelby had promised to introduce me to the entire therapy staff at the next practice, and I was eager to get my foot in that door.
But now, I sit here naked on the floor of this massive room after stripping myself in the hallway, with nothing but a robe around me and my cellphone in hand.
I half expected him to knock and perhaps apologize for his actions and statements after picking his jaw up off the floor. Yeah, the thong to the face was a tad extreme, even for me. But I'm forgetting he isn't the type to apologize. I'm mistaking him for a decent man.
I check the time on my phone, getting the itch to call Colin and get some much needed normalcy back into my life, but I realize with the time difference, he's probably asleep. Instead, I lay back on the bed, reading my smutty romance novel that was in my carry-on bag. Probably the most important object that made the trip, if I'm honest.
After about an hour of enjoying the fantasy of what a real man should be, my phone vibrates next to me. I set the book down, knee-deep in a spicy scene, to see a message from an unknown number.
Just please keep the clothes, Dylan.
Ew. Hell no. How did he get my number?! Fucking Greg. It had to have been Greg.
I contemplate a few things.
I write a message back that says a simpleF U, but then decide to erase it because, professionalism.
I write out another response along the lines ofI don't need you or anyone else to save me, dirtbag, but erase that, too.
I sit there, glaring at those six little words, realizing there isn't one nice thing I can say back to him. Maybe that's for the best. He doesn't deserve my response. Silence. I'll give him silence.
I get up and make my way to the bathroom to wash off the rest of this makeup before bed when my phone vibrates again.
