Page 122 of On Merit Alone
I groanedfor about the hundredth time that hour, and a pillow hit me square in the face.
“Jesus Christ, man, will you shut up?” McKivvey asked. “You’ve been moaning and groaning since you got here. It’s annoying.”
“I can’t help it,” I said, ripping the pillow away and throwing it back across Stephens’ penthouse living room in the middle of the city. “She won’t fucking talk to me and it’s all I can think about.”
“Shouldn’t have fucked up so bad then,” Stephens grumbled. I glared and he scrunched his shoulders up. “What? I like Merit and if you weren’t going to treat her right, I could have.”
“I’m going to need you to shut the fuck up, Stephens, if you want to keep your tongue,” I said before I reached for my phone on his weird looking steel coffee table again. A second later it was being snatched from my hands. I reached out to Rogers, who was the one who stole it. “Hey, I need that!”
“You don’t. She’s not calling right now, man. Just relax,” he said. He gave me a stink eye until I finally settled back into my seatand then sighed. “Now what’s going on? I thought you said she forgave you.”
“Forgiving,” I corrected. “She’s coming around to it, but she still won’t really talk to me.”
“What the hell did you do to the poor girl?” he asked.
I pursed my lips as I averted my eyes, not at all proud about the way I had made her cry. Seeing those tears had sucker punched me in a way I was not ready for. Seeing her not being able to look at me stole my breath. I hadn’t wanted to leave her side that night. I was such a fucking idiot for forgetting a game she’d been talking about for weeks, but I’d been sucked up in all the stuff with myself and I just mixed up the dates.
There was no excuse. I just wanted my Merit back. She hadn’t told me to fuck off yet, which was a good sign, but she wasn’t kissing me like she had the day I took her to the eye doctor either. She wasn’t telling me she trusted me anymore.Fuck.
I groaned again.
“Oh my God! Can we please get him out of here? His whipped ass is going to drive me crazy if we stay here and listen to his bitching!” McKivvey said.
“We can’t leave him here,” Stephens protested. “Cause when I leave, I’m coming back with some ass.”
“Wow. Way to be supportive, Stephens,” I grumbled. “Remember the last time you were hung up about some girl? You slept over at my place for an entire weekend like it was some kind of fifth grade sleepover party or something.”
He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. All I’m saying is, Merit doesn’t just seem like some girl you’re hung up over. She seems like the real deal for you. And if she is, you shouldn’t be hanging around with us waiting for something to happen. You should go find her and talk about this….and give us some fucking peace.”
I crossed my arms. “I don’t want to bulldoze her. I’m alreadystalking her every day to apologize. If I’m too pushy, she’ll run away.”
There was aDing!noise, followed by a sharp buzz that cut through the air. It took me an extra second to realize it came from my phone, which was currently in my friend's hands. I rose half out of my seat, about ready to pounce on Rogers at the possibility that it might be Merit. He saw and held up a staying hand as he checked the message.
His eyes lit, a small smirk curling his lips, but that’s all the reaction he gave as he leaned the phone first toward Stephens and then McKivvey. They both did their own version of a smartass laugh.
“What?” I asked, dying to know if that was her.
Rogers shrugged. “Looks like you don’t have to wait much longer. You’ve been summoned.”
Tossing my phone back to me, I snatched it up and raced my eyes over the screen. My entire body heated as blood rushed through my veins.
I rose. “We’re leaving.”
The three of them laughed, but I ignored them as I headed straight for my keys and wallet on Stephens’ kitchen island. Because on the screen was a message sent from Merit’s phone. A photo of her smiling big and bright as she stood at the bar of some dimly lit club. She had a drink in her hand and makeup I’d never seen painted on her face. She was beautiful, and she was talking to some guy.
The message that came along with the photo said:
Tag, you’re it. She’s tipsy and she can’t stop talking about you. You’re welcome.
I sent back one word.
Me
Address?
I spotted her right away. I’d barely handed the bouncer guy my ID before I was snatching it back and ignoring his awestruck face at the four NBA players casually shouldering into this mundane bar.
Like a moth to a flame, I saw her right away. Surrounded by a sea of her teammates was the beautiful essence of all my recent dreams. The lights were blue and fluorescent all around the club and bounced off of whatever shimmery makeup she was wearing on her face. She was glittering like a diamond, painted in sparkles with skin glowing that deep rich brown.
