Page 76 of Bad Wolf

He shrugs “I wasn’t thinking this, uh, this morning…I mean it was so early and I was up late. I’ve packed up a few boxes...”

He’s acting weird. I didn’t think he left the apartment last night.

He falters in his next step and looks at Jason, “Wanna come too? I don’t think these walls will stand up against a half-a-decade make up session.”

As much as I like the thought of sleeping with Wren, I don’t think sex is in the cards. Actually, probably not for a while. The idea here is to get us talking, hopefully, become friends, and then see what happens.

The good part of my brain, the weary, tentative side, applauds this mature and rational plan. The depraved side of my brain, and the bad and downright wicked things it’s been torturing me with lately, has my mind rebelling against it.

Jason nods, “Okay, yeah. Let’s do it. I’ll drive.”

We have a rare day off tomorrow, so it’s worth them driving back out to the street most of our group lives on.

And now Hollywood has signed off on his place there, he’s started moving his stuff in. It’s taken him nearly two years, but he’s finally the proud owner of the house that sits in between Gunner and Callan’s and is eager to move.

The plan is for me and Jase to continue living here, for at least a while anyway.

They go about getting ready to leave and I start making a plan. I’m just going to go for it.

“Oh shit, Knox!” My brother yells, storming out of his bedroom.

“Yeah?” I say, raising an eyebrow at him.

“She just texted. She’s, umm, she’s leaving.”

“Leaving?”

He nods. “She said she’s caused you enough pain and hates how she’s come between us all. She’s sorry and grateful, but she’s gonna go find the new start she deserves.”

“When?”

He gulps, “Tomorrow.”

“Fuck!” I leave him for dust.

I hurtle through a shower burdened by my heavy dick. Ever since Hollywood mentioned makeup sex, I’ve been semi-hard, and in the end, I deem it best to jerk off in an attempt to lessen the tension I’m feeling.

It does absolutely nothing to take the edge off.

I dry off and get redressed, trying on three different outfits, which flusters me even more and I have to take a breath.

Funny how it mirrors getting ready for our first date in junior high.

It was all pointless though, because as I jog my way across town, the unforgiving spring sun beats down, making me hot and sweaty.

Finally, after what feels like a hundred blocks, I’m practically hammering down the door to no answer.

“Please open up. Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole. Let’s talk it out for real. I’m ready now.”

My fist pounds on the door again and again until finally, all my patience is gone.

“Open the goddamn door. Now!”

Nothing.

“Come on, Wren,” I groan.

My phone dings in my pocket and seeing as this door isn’t opening any time soon, I take it out to look at it.

---