Page 28 of Valentine's Day Daddy

"Tyler, I told you before, I'm not interested in you. It's why I didn't write down your number," I tell him. "I'm flattered but this isn't the time or place—"

“You didn’t write anybody’s number down, Ashton. I know. I worked in the tabulation center after we did the event and I saw the matches. I looked at yours specifically because I was into you,” Tyler says quickly.

Ezra gets to his feet, his entire body tense, his posture looking like he’s ready to fight. “Get the fuck out of here, kid,” he growls. “She’s not interested in you—”

“She wasn’t interested in you either—but you rigged the game to make sure you got some time with her, didn’t you?” Tyler spat.

My heart falls into my stomach and I turn to Ezra. “What is he talking about?”

“Nothing,” Ezra says. “He’s just—”

“I saw him fix the matches, Ashton. I was in the room with him and Mimi when they were talking about doing it. Mimi looked the other way while he manually and fraudulently matched the two of you.”

Ezra takes a step toward Tyler, making him recoil, his face etched with fear.

“Okay, that’s it—”

"That's all I wanted to tell you, Ashton. And I'm telling you because I like you and think you deserve better," Tyler says. "You deserve to know he rigged the game for his benefit—that he didn't match with you and this whole thing is a fraud. I thought you'd want to know since you said you hated guys who took what didn't belong to them."

And with that, Tyler turned and darted away, leaving me with a thousand questions firing through my mind. Near the top of that list, I wondered how he knew where I was and whether I needed to worry about him stalking me or not. But then the questions about what he said started to swirl around in my mind.

“Ezra, is what he said true?” I ask. “Did you fix the game so we’d match?

He’s silent for a long moment and doesn’t seem to have an answer. But he doesn’t need to. I can see it written all over his face. Tyler was telling the truth. My stomach roils and the anger burning inside of me makes my skin feels like it's hot to the touch. I grab my purse and get to my feet, glaring at him.

"Baby girl, does it matter how we got together?" he asks. "Everything that's happened between us has been real. It's been genuine. And everything I've said to you has been sincere. Don't throw it all away just because of something as stupid and arbitrary as that."

“First of all, don’t call me baby girl. You’ve lost that right,” I growl. “Second, this is exactly what I was talking about when I told you I didn’t like guys who took what they wanted without thought or consideration for other people.”

“Ashton, I think you’re being a little dramatic here. Yeah, so I rigged the match game. I did it, all right?” he tells me. “But I did it because I knew there was something special about you. Because I thought maybe, we could have something special between us. And I was right. What we have—what we’re building here—is special. And it’s real.”

“And yet, you couldn’t give me the respect I deserve by not fixing the game,” I hiss. “If you wanted to meet me, you should have given me that much respect, Ezra.”

“I think you should know by now how much I respect you.”

"I thought you did. I believed you did," I respond. "How could I be so stupid?”

“Ashton, please. Sit down. Let’s talk this out like two people who care for each other as much as we do,” he tells me.

“If you truly did care about me, you wouldn’t have done what you did, Ezra. This was all just a game to you,” I hiss. “And this is exactly why I don’t put myself out there. This is why I don’t open myself up and date.”

“Ashton—”

I turn on my heel, not letting him finish that statement. Part of me fears that if I stay, I’ll let him talk me out of this. I care about him a lot already, but I refuse to let him play with my emotions. What he did is wrong, so I march out of the lounge, leaving Ezra standing there alone. I hurry out to the street and put as much distance as I can between us, not wanting him to see the tears streaming down my face.

14

“Just give her some time. She’ll come around,” Mimi says.

“It’s been a week.”

“Then give her a little more time.”

“No, she’s not coming back,” I groan. “I fucked up, Meems. I fucked up bad.”

“Well… yeah. You did.”

“Gee, thanks.”

---