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“That doesn’t stop them from hoping,” she said tartly. More than one submissive had ended up in the locker room crying, because Master Andrew had played with her last week and then hadn’t given her a second glance this week. Maybe she’d been ignorant about what she was doing to Patrick, but he was just as ignorant about what he’d been doing to the subs.
“I can’t stop them from hoping,” Andrew said with a shrug. “I tell them the truth, and that’s all I can do. Whether they choose to believe me or not is up to them.”
Lexie made a face at him, but there wasn’t much she could say to that. He did tell the truth. Always. Brutally sometimes. And the subs kept choosing to scene with him anyway. Kind of like she’d kept chasing after Patrick anyway.
She should call him. Or, better yet, go to him. Maybe bake something as a peace offering. After talking to Andrew, she could understand Patrick’s side of things a little better. At the very least, he deserved to be heard out. She could also admit to herself that he also deserved an apology, for the way she’d completely shut him out.
What was he supposed to do? Force his presence on her when she’d clearly indicated multiple times to him that she didn’t want to talk? Which would pretty much go against every tenant of safe, sane, and consensual. Of course he hadn’t come storming up to her door, he’d been waiting for her to be ready to talk to him after she’d ignored him. Which was the mature, adult thing to do. Now it was her turn to do the adult thing.
“I’ll go talk to Patrick today.”
“Good girl,” Andrew said approvingly. She rolled her eyes.
“Why couldn’t you have been like this last night? You kept glaring at me.”
“Last night we were in Stronghold and I was a Dom who was disappointed in your behavior. You were trying to manipulate Patrick by showing up the way you did, and I didn’t approve. Today I’m your friend, doling out hard truths and big hugs.”
Lexie shrieked as he suddenly popped the last of his bagel in his mouth and wrapped his arms around her, although she noticed he was careful not to jostle the arm holding her coffee cup. There wasn’t much left, but she appreciated it anyway. She also appreciated the big hug. He was such a doofus, but she loved him.
Something thudded against his front door. Frowning, Patrick looked up from the book he was reading. He’d decided to start on the small pile (which never seemed to get any lower) of books he’d been meaning to read. It was better than staring at the television, which didn’t take nearly enough of his focus.
THUD. THUD. THUD.
Lexie? Patrick couldn’t think of anyone else who ever kicked his door rather than knocking on it. If her hands were full, she never bothered to put anything down, she’d just kick the door.
Putting the book face down on his coffee table, he jumped up, moving quickly and quietly. Rather than getting his hopes completely up, he looked through the peephole. Short black hair, big blue eyes, and a wary expression met his gaze.
Holy shit.
He stepped back and yanked the door open.
“Um. Hi.” Lexie looked up at him with a tremulous smile on her face, as if she wasn’t sure about what she was doing. As much as he loved her confidence, her hesitancy was just as endearing to him. Maybe more so, since he so rarely got to see her uncertain. She held up a cherry pie. His favorite. “I brought you pie.”
“Homemade?” he asked, grinning because he already knew the answer. Holding the door wider, he turned so she could step inside. She gave him a dirty look as she passed by him.
“Nope.”
Lexie made terrible pies. The only time she’d ever managed to succeed in making a good pie was with her mother standing over her, watching her every move, and guiding her every step. Otherwise, somehow, they just always turned out bad. She never did anything really obvious, like mixing up salt and sugar, but they just always came out unpalatable.
But Patrick loved pie, and she knew it, so she’d picked one up, even knowing he’d tease her about it.
She set the pie down on his dining room table, turning to face him and shifting back and forth on her feet nervously. He waited, patient. As much as he wanted to know what she was doing there, he didn’t want to antagonize her now that she was here. Hope was welling up inside of him that she’d come, rather than called or texted. That had to mean something.
Finally, she straightened up to her full height and looked him in the face. “I came to say I’m sorry for leaving the club on Thursday night and for not returning your calls or texts.”
Patrick moved forward, invading her space. She stood her ground, tilting her head back to keep eye contact. The thin blue sweater she was wearing couldn’t hide the hardening of her nipples as he loomed over her, pressing her rings against the fabric.
“Is that it?” he asked, his voice a low, deep rumble.
She scowled up at him, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not sorry for leaving the Doctor’s Office, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“What about last night?”
“Oh... I’m sorry about that too,” she said, losing some of her defiance. “Leigh asked me to come to Stronghold, and I didn’t think about how it would look if I showed up without the collar on and with Michael. Not that I was really with him, which is why I didn’t think about it. We all came together. He didn’t play with me last night, and he didn’t ask me to. Even if he had, I would have never said yes.”
Letting her babble, Patrick could feel his heart lifting up in his chest, the tension leaking out of him. She closed her mouth with a sudden click of her teeth, realizing she was blathering. The look she gave him clearly said it was his turn. He couldn’t help but chuckle. Submissive she might be, a pushover she was not.
Reaching up to brush her hair way from her eyes, he enjoyed the feel of her silky strands against his fingers. His cock stirred. If he had his way, they were going to be doing more than talking tonight. As far as he was concerned, he’d gotten the go ahead from Jake, and if Lexie was here, that meant they could work this shit out. She certainly didn’t seem averse to picking up where they’d left off, rather than returning to the friend zone.
