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I shoot off the message and watch, waiting for those three little dots to appear on the screen, but they never do.
Gunshots sound from the speaker, reminding me that I’ve completely spaced out while I was texting with Prescott.
Okay then.
I shift in my bed, feeling that familiar stabbing in my stomach. Turning to the side, I move my laptop and curl my finger under the pillow, pulling my legs all the way to my chest as I curl in on myself and continue watching the show. But every so often, my gaze darts to my phone and that unanswered message.
I don’t understand what’s going on between Prescott and me. The sex is as good as ever, but somehow, it’s not the only thing that’s connecting us. Not any longer.
I talk with him probably more than with anybody else in my life right now. I’m not sure when or how it happened. Maybe it was that night in the gym, or maybe it was when he found me walking on the side of the road at night and took me to that lookout where he goes when he needs time to think.
Either way, somehow, along the way, he has turned into something more than a casual hookup, and it scares me.
It scares me shitless.
Because I know just how easy it is to lose somebody you care about.
Not that I care about Prescott. Not in that way. He drives me insane. Like right now. Completely and utterly insane.
Letting out a sigh, I pause the show when the credits roll and push myself upright. My stomach still hurts, but the pain has dulled slightly thanks to the painkillers I took earlier. Grabbing a change of clothes, I go to the bathroom and turn on the shower as I take off my clothes. I make sure the water is warm enough before sliding under the spray and letting the water warm me up.
I slowly wash my body and then just stand under the shower for a good five minutes before I’m finally ready to leave. Grabbing the towel, I dry myself before slipping into the comfiest pair of boxer shorts and an oversized tee.
Pulling open the bathroom door, I come to a stop when I see Prescott sitting on my bed. “What are you doing here?”
“You really need to start closing your window.”
“You really need to stop climbing through my window.”
Prescott grins at me. “Where would be the fun in that?”
“Oh, I don’t know? Not breaking your neck in the process?”
“Still intact.” He slides his hand at the back of his neck, rubbing at the muscles. “Although it’s sweet that you worry.”
“Worry?” I huff, moving closer to the bed. “I’m just thinking of all the possible consequences of your actions and how they might disrupt my life.” I sniff softly. “Is that pizza?”
“Maybe.” Prescott lifts the box off the bedside table. “I figured I’d bring the bribe in case you go serial killer on me.”
“If I went serial killer on you, you wouldn’t get a chance to open your mouth.”
I try to grab the box from him, but the asshole he is, he lifts it out of my reach. “I think what you wanted to say is thank you, Prescott, for bringing my grumpy ass some carbs.”
“What I want is pizza, so gimmie.”
“What if I want something in return?”
“I haven’t thrown you out yet or murdered you. That’s as good as you’ll get.”
“But…”
I jab my finger into his chest. “Hand it over.”
He rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
The moment the box is in my reach, I grab it from his hands and open the top, the smell of cheese hitting me in the face all at once, making my stomach rumble.
I look up at Prescott. “How did you know cheese is my favorite?”
