Page 6 of The Plan

I glare at him and see Vidia cross her arms and stand proudly. “You know you have a UCL tear in your elbow, Sire. Do you want to get surgery again?”

I cross my arms as I stare down at her. “Fuck no.” There's no way in hell I’m getting surgery again—those months were fuckinghell.I don’t think I can go through that again. Plus, my injury isn’t even that severe.

She turns her head, challenging me, and her curly ponytail swings to the side. “So did you grow up and decide to continue your last month of physical therapy?”

See, I was thinking about being mature, but she just had to go ahead with her smart mouth. “I’m still weighing the pros and cons of being in your presence, and there aren’t any pros, so no.”

“Here’s one—your career.” She always has a smart fucking response. It pisses me off but not as much as her thinking she’s always right.

“My career will be fine,” I tell her, and she doesn’t miss a beat as she replies.

“You must be a fucking rock because you're going to end up never playing again if your arm doesn’t heal properly.” She still has a smug smile on her face. As if the thought of me not being able to play ball again is appealing to her. I bet it fucking is. Little shit.

“You must be a fucking rock if you think I—”

“Just shut the fuck up, Sire,” she interrupts.

“You shut the fuck up.” My voice is cold as I take a step toward her, but when she flinches, I immediately take a step back. It was small, so small I doubt August or anyone noticed, but I did. She takes a step forward when she realizes, putting us inches apart again.

“Or what?” she challenges, her voice somehow colder, and I smirk down at her but take another step back. I can see her grow angrier with that one action. That I noticed and that no matter what, I still know her. I hate that she still has that habit of flinching, but I like that she also still puts up this front. We hold eye contact as she waits for my response, but I don’t give her one.

I roll my eyes and look away from her annoying ass. I was expecting a bunch of eyes on us, but I realize it’s empty in here besides us. That makes sense as to why she’s talking to me like this at her job. She’s always been professional when it comes to work.

When I look back down at her, she scoffs and rolls her eyes. She goes to walk away, but August stops her. “He was joking, V. He changed his mind.” No, I wasn’t, and no, I didn’t, so he needs to shut up.

She turns back around, looking at me. “I think I want to hear you say it, Gryffindor.”

I falter at her nickname for me.I haven’t heard that name in four years.I stare at her and actually weigh the pros and cons. I can’t get cleared to play next month without her, and she isn’t going to sign the form if I don’t continue physical therapy. I also got confirmation that I’m not one hundred percent healed, and while I can see someone else, she’s unfortunately the best, so…

“Fine.” I immediately regret my words when a smug smile spreads across her lips.

Chapter Three

Sire

Someone is in my apartment.The sound of glass shattering fills the silence just as I hop out of bed.Why the hell didn’t my alarm go off?Walking over to my closet, I grab a bat and go in search of the idiot who chose the wrong apartment.

Tip-toeing around the corner, I see someone in all black picking something off my floor. As I get closer, my stupid floor creeks, and he gets up and turns around.

Without giving him a chance to attack first, I pick up the bat and take a swing at him, but he ducks. As soon as he gets up again, I hit him in the knee, and he falls back. “AH! What the fuck, Sire!” Shit, I thought someone actually broke in.

August gets back up, holding his knee in pain. “I’m going to sue you if my knee is broken.” He was the one who broke in, so I highly doubt he's going to win that court case, but I ignore him.

Rolling my eyes, I set the bat down and walk to my kitchen, flicking the lights on. “How the hell did you even get in here?” Opening the freezer, I pull out some waffles. With my open floor plan, I can still see August in my living room. He’s holding hisknee, staring at me like I was the one who just broke into his house.

“You’re not even going to apologize?” I’ll apologize if his knee is actually broken, but I didn’t even hit him that hard. He’s just a dramatic bitch.

“Did you make a copy of my keys again?” I make my waffles and rest my elbows on the kitchen counter. August makes his way over to me, limping. My eyes drop to his knee, and a ball of nerves settles in my stomach. We have a game soon, so I’m starting to feel bad if he’s actually hurt.

“Maybe, but that’s on you for leaving your keys lying around.”

“Did you also break my alarm again?”

“Stop saying it like I broke it on purpose. It scared me, and no, your code has been0614for, what, four years now?” I don’t answer him, and he thankfully doesn't press why that’s still my code.

The toaster pops my waffles, and I serve them before taking a seat next to him. He reaches for one of my waffles, and I roll my eyes, handing him a fork. I knew he was going to do this, which is why I made two extra ones.

Before I can take a bite of my food, there's a knock on the door. We both say, “Not it,” but he was a second quicker than me, so I get up to answer it. The person knocks again, then rings the bell twice impatiently. I finally reach the door, and when I open it, she jumps on me.

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