Page 53 of The Fantasy League
Instead, I was sitting at home alone. Bored. Balancing my time between catching up on my favorite trashy reality TV shows I’d neglected the past few weeks and trying out new recipes that all sucked.
Occasionally, I’d pop over to Mae’s and annoy her with my presence until she kicked me out because I was “distracting her from work.”
Lame.
Ten days of boredom felt like ten months and I suddenly realized why the stay-at-home wives with no jobs or kids I envied on Socialgram took daily Pilates classes and went to the grocery store multiple times a week.
I hadn’t heard a word from Abel since he left me standing dazed in the airport parking lot with tingly lips.
Did he regret kissing me? Or worse… was I a bad kisser?
I knew I was a little rusty, but I didn’t think it wasthatbad.
It took me a few days of mulling it over endlessly to realize that all of the lingering touches, the thoughtful gestures, and even that kiss—God, that kiss—didn’t mean we were actually together. Even if breaking one of our cardinal rules made my brain think otherwise.
I had been so blinded by our kiss that some part of me had forgotten the entire reason for agreeing to our ruse in the first place. It was hard to imagine Abel not living across the street anymore, let alonemeliving in his house.
Was I letting the possibility of a future with Abel cloud my judgment?
Probably.
Okay, more than probably. I most definitely was.
Abel and I were good together, so it was hard not to.
I just hoped that one day when I mustered up the courage to tell him the truth—that Ikinda sorta maybewas falling for him—that he'd let me down easy. Because now, after that kiss, there was no way I’d be able to go back to how we used to be before.
Three months ago I would’ve rather met my maker than speak twenty words to him, but now, this curveball of a confession would rock whatever foundation we’d created the last few weeks.
Soon enough, the whole charade between us would be over anyway, which made a piece of my heart break off from the rest at the thought.
I stared at Abel’s contact on my phone and opened up a new message. He gave me his phone number the first day that I started working for him, but I never had a reason to text him until now.
What kind of thing did you say to your boss who kissed you then didn’t say a word after?
Scarlett:John says hi.
Abel:Tell him I’ll beat his fucking face in.
Scarlett:Aggressive much?
Abel:I prefer the term possessive.
Abel:I miss you, Red.
Abel:I’ve been waiting for you to text me for ten fucking days. You never gave me your number and I even reached out to Lea and October for it, but they both refused to give it to me. They claimed “a boyfriend would have a girlfriend’s phone number.”
Abel:Needless to say, they might be on to us.
He tried contacting me?
Oh my god, Abel tried contacting me.
Scarlett:You could’ve always messaged me on Socialgram to ask.
Abel:I did… four times, Red. You don’t follow me back so it probably got sent to your spam inbox.
Oh shit. He was right.
