Page 21 of Personal Foul
“It’s worth the extra money, just saying. Although… it looks like you’re having quite a fucking night tonight there, Princess.” He leans over, staring into my basket as he tosses the one he just pulled off the shelf into it.
No.
Nope.
Not Happening.
This is not happening.
But when I look up, it’s definitely him. Definitely his smug little grin. The smell of his fucking cologne drifting over me and perking up all my nerve endings. All the ones that remember what it felt like to kiss him, touch him, fuck him.Fuck.
My brain struggles to comprehend how I’m going to get out of this one with any dignity at all intact. I start by pulling the box he’s just thrown in out, setting it back on the shelf silently. A small grin on my lips as I do it.
“I’m surprised you’re willing to admit vibrator expertise. It takes a big man to admit he’s not enough for a woman. I’m impressed you have it in you to set your ego aside like that.”
He grins back at me, even wider than before.
“My ego comes from being able to get women off. Reliably. Often. How that happens doesn’t matter to me so much as the fact it does. But youknowthat.”
Wellfuck. What’s the retort to that? I don’t know.
“Well, I’m good. But thanks anyways for the advice.” I move past him because I need to. I need acres, miles, continent’s worth of distance from this man.
“You missed class.” He’s behind me, following me.
“I had to work an extra shift. One of the servers was sick. I told you; I have no free time, and sometimes that includes during class.”
“When do you want to meet about the project? We still need to finalize an idea. I have a few.”
“I don’t know. Text me. We live in an era where we don’t have to be in person to work on this. It’s lovely. Means we don’t have to see each other.” I pick up my pace.
“Wren.” He stops and says my name loudly, turning several heads in our direction in the process. More attention is the last thing I need.
“What?” I snap, turning on my heel. “I’ve had a long week. I have to make several other stops before I can go home tonight. I’m tired, and I don’t want to talk about the project right now. I told you, just text me, okay?”
“Okay,” he relents, frowning.
I hurry on, desperate to get away from him because the last thing I need is any more encounters that fuck with my head.
* * *
I get homefor the second time today a couple of hours later. I dropped my groceries off the first time and then ran back out to check on the bar and visit the local restaurant supply shop before I could come home for good. I’m so excited because we’re watching a new movie that’s just come out on streaming, and Liv is cooking her homemade chicken dumplings tonight along with strawberry cake.
I set the wine I picked up on the way back on the table. It’s the cheap kind, but we’ve grown to love it, and I desperately need a girl’s night tonight. Good friends and food are what I need right now. Something to give me a break from this hellish week. Which is why when I hear the distinct sound of male voices in the living room, my heart sinks.
I’m happy for Kenz and Liv. Truly happy. They deserve men like Waylon and Liam who worship the ground they walk on and make them a priority. I’d done my best to help get them together. But I, as their single best friend, wish that occasionally they would be a little less coupled up. I missed my girls’ nights. Especially girls’ nights in after a week like this one where I want to unload about everything including my Easton encounter. And now I’m just going to be the awkward fifth wheel, curled up on the chair in the corner while they both snuggle their boyfriends and sneak off early to bed.
The frustration in my chest grows, clawing its way up my throat until I almost feel like I might cry. But I won’t. I can’t. At least not in front of everyone. So I take a deep breath and run up the steps, pretending like I need to hurry to take care of something.
“Wren? Is that you?” Liv calls after me from the kitchen, but I just keep hurrying my way up the steps.
“Yep, talk to you in a minute!” I call back down.
“Okay but—”
I don’t hear the rest of what she says because I’m already in my room, shutting the door behind me and collapsing into a heap against the back of it. Finally letting the tears come because I am a mess right now. Exhausted. Worn out and more than a little frazzled. And I don’t want to take that out on my friends. It’s not their fault. I know if I had said something, Kenz and Liv would have made sure it was just us tonight and done whatever I need. But I feel weird asking, and I don’t want to be that needy friend who just seems unhappy all the time.
I draw my knees up to my chest, tipping my forehead down and take a deep breath. I can pull it together. I can get through this week. I need to stop overreacting to things like this, but it’s just one more straw on the heap right now. I stand and stretch, reminding myself that next week I have two days off in a row and can get caught up on school and things around the house. I can probably even squeeze in some binge reading.
