Page 22 of Stroke of Fate

It may not be as satisfying as slamming a door inhisface, but it still feels damn good walking away without looking back.

8 | LEVI

Watching Bear walk off doesn’t have the desired effect I know she wants it to have. She’s blessed me with a perfect view of her round ass in those form-fitting jeans, and the glimpse of smooth, golden skin peeking out between her shirt and waistband only makes me harder for her.

Yeah, she can definitely walk away from me more often.

Although I didn’t expect to see her here tonight, the moment I did, I knew I had to make things right between us.

Which is why I didn’t try to stop her from leaving. I already fucked things up. This time, I plan to do it the right way.

“Rude much?” Sadie scoffs as Bear disappears from view.

The sound of her voice sours my mood. I bite my tongue, deciding against calling her out for ignoring Bear while she hovered around me like a dog in heat. She won’t see it that way, and I’m not wasting my breath on her.

“Sadie, what exactly do you want?” I say through clenched teeth, trying not to lose my patience.

I consider myself a pretty good judge of character. I rarely stick my dick into just anyone, but if there’s one black mark on my record, it’s Sadie.

I knew her from a class we shared freshman year. We hooked up once, and the night was blurry at best. It wasn’t my finest moment, and I thought I did a good job making sure she knew it wasn’t going beyond that night. Hell, I literally told her so in those exact words.

We had some lackluster conversation, and the sex was just that—sex. No feelings or romantic gestures afterward.

Everything was fine between us until a few weeks later when we got stuck working on a project with three other classmates. For some reason, she latched onto me like a leech during those weeks. Now she thinks we’re friends or, worse, something more.

And it pisses me off how she tried to make us meeting up sound like something more. We hadallplanned to go for drinks to celebrate the project being over and the start of summer break. Still, it never worked out with everyone’s schedules. And I haven’t thought about it since. That’s how insignificant it is to me.

“I thought we could set up a day to catch up.” She pushes her chest closer to me, an obvious attempt at drawing attention to her breasts, which are practically falling out of her shirt.

I take a step back, putting some distance between her fake tits and me. Thank fuck we aren’t sharing any classes this year, or I’d be forced to turn into a real dick so she gets the memo.

I stare blankly at her. “Catch up about what, exactly?”

We never spoke outside of group meetings or discussed anything beyond the project and a few mundane topics—not because she didn’t try, but because I made sure we were never alone together. So, either she's delusional or thinks playing dumb is cute.

“I don’t know, silly, just stuff.” The giggle she lets out irritates my ears. “Maybe we can have a repeat—”

“No.” I cut her off. Hell-fucking-no. “I need to get back to my friends.”

The glare Sadie shoots me doesn’t faze me. If she thought I’d jump at the opportunity to “catch up” with her, she’s mistaken. There’s only one girl whose attention I want. And ironically, it’s the same girl who won’t even give me the time of day.

“See you around.” Walking away, I realize that might’ve been the wrong thing to say.

Girls like Sadie take shit too literally and show up at the worst times, just like she did tonight. But that’s a problem for another day.

Right now, I need to figure out how to get on Bear’s good side. The thought of her thinking I'm just some asshole neighbor wrecks me inside. I don't know why I want her to see me as a good guy so badly. I just do.

When I return to the table, our usual appetizer of chips and guacamole is already waiting. My stomach growls at the sight of food. I slide back into my seat and grab a chip, but Mack swats at my hand, making me drop it onto the table.

“What the hell was that for?” I whine, but damn, that was the best-looking one in the basket.

“Did you wash your hands?” He stares at me intently. I glance at Sam and Austin, both giving me the same look.

I don’t know what’s happening right now, and I’m not sure I want to find out.

“The fuck? What do you mean, did I wash my hands?”

“When you went to the bathroom, did you wash them?” He repeats.

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