Chapter Thirteen Doughnuts and Playboys
RYLEE
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Ugh… what the hell is that?
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Noooo, shut up! Stop it, whatever is making that noise. I don’t want to wake up yet!
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Fuck!
Cracking my eyes open, I look toward the nightstand and see that my phone’s screen is lit up as it continues buzzing. Grabbing my phone, I look to see that it’s not even eight o’clock. It’s fucking Saturday! Who is calling… ?
Oh. It’s Miles.
Yeah, that makes sense. He would be the one to ruin my day from the start.
I hesitate a moment, thinking I should ignore it, but he’s tried to call me several times already and I have a feeling he’s not going to stop until I see what he wants.
Groaning, I answer the call.
“I don’t know why you keep trying to reach out,” I snap, not even bothering with a hello. “I don’t care what the fuck you want. Leave me alone!”
Okay, so maybe I don’t really want to know what he wants.
“Rylee, just hear me out!” he replies in a hurried tone. “We’re still friends, right? I just need a bit of help. I have a new marketing client - snowboarder - and I was just wondering if you could put in a good word with your boss at ICON and see if you could get him a magazine spread… ”
“Are you fucking kidding me!” I explode, furious at his nerve. “Not a chance in hell! Get fucked!”
I hang up before he can say anything else. Fuck! That lowlife motherfucker! How dare he try to ask me for a favor!
Tears of frustration rise up in my eyes but I fight them. I’m so sick of crying about that asshole! He doesn’t deserve them. He never deserved me! It wasn’t me he wanted, anyway. He was always way more into my connection with ICON than he was me.
If he’d been more like GlideControlZ, we might actually still be together.
Wiping away the few tears that manage to slip out, I open the Cloak app just to read last night’s conversations, and that slowly puts a smile back on my face.
Our “date” was so much fun. Who knew I’d enjoy playing checkers for hours?
It’s kind of weird, feeling so giddy about a guy and not even knowing what he looks like, but I don’t think I’ve ever had such an easy time talking to someone.
I feel like we’re really connecting, and I just hope that when we do meet face-to-face, the attraction is as intense and immediate as our chemistry so far.
For some reason, as I’m remembering my date, Zander and his date pop into my head.
Ugh… he never came home last night, so it must have gone well.
He couldn’t have just let me know that he wasn’t coming back, though?
It was after three when I went to bed, and I couldn’t help but worry about him a bit.
What if he’d been tricked and kidnapped and was having his kidneys harvested while I was safe and snug under my blankets?
I quickly realized how ridiculous of a thought that was, though. He’s a big, muscly hockey player - he could hold his own in a fight or kidnapping/black market organ harvesting attempt.
Still, it wasn’t very considerate of him not to give me a heads up.
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, though.
A guy who ghosts a girl the way he ghosted me probably doesn’t take other people’s feelings into consideration all that often.
No doubt he spent the night with his face between his date’s legs, making her scream in pleasure…
Ah! No, fuck that! I don’t care what he did last night. He’ll likely just ditch whoever he’s with before she wakes up anyway. Playboy asshole. Fuck Zander!
And fuck Miles!
Fuck all men!
Except for GlideControlZ… unless we’re literally fucking, that is.
Letting out a huff of frustration, I grab my journal from beneath my pillow and flip it open to angrily scribble out my rageful thoughts about Miles.
Goddamn Miles! He only ever wanted to be with me because of my job. To get his stupid clients into the fucking magazine. I hope he gets a rash on his dick and it hurts when he pees!
Tears blur my vision again and I wipe my eyes with the palm of my hand. Fuck, I could use a drink. Ugh, it’s too early for that. I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I just want to make the pain he’s caused me disappear.
I will never let a guy use me the way he did ever again!
My mom has always been the one to remind me to never settle, and I did for Miles.
I’m not going to make that mistake a second time.
Mom’s right. She’s always been right. I need a guy who’s perfect for me - someone I can trust completely, who never starts an argument, who’s always mindful of my wants and needs.
Who sacrifices for me. Puts me first… and who rocks my world in the bedroom (I added that last part).
No guy has measured up yet, but I’m not giving up. He’s out there somewhere, and I’m going to find him.
I won’t make the mistakes my Mom had to learn from.
The sound of the apartment’s door opening jerks me from my raging thoughts. Oh, look at that. Mr. Manwhore finally comes home after a long night of screwing some poor woman over - literally and figuratively.
Slamming my journal shut, I stuff it back into its hiding place and get out of bed.
I do my skincare routine before storming out of the room and down the hall, because God forbid I let that fucker see my blotchy morning face.
Zander is standing in the kitchen, two cups of take-out coffee on the island in front of him as well as a box of doughnuts and danishes.
He looks up as I come marching in, half a glazed doughnut in his hand, the other half in his mouth.
“Hey,” he says, his voice muffled by doughnut. “I got breakfast.”
I hesitate a moment, my anger burning through me. How can he just stand here, acting all cool and unbothered? Is this how he was the morning after he ghosted me? Acting like he didn’t have a care in the world?
Asshole. Part of me doesn’t want to take anything this guy has to offer, but fuck… I love doughnuts.
“Thanks,” I grumble, snagging a chocolate-covered one out of the box, as well as one of the coffees. I take a big bite, savoring the donut, though I try not to let just how much I’m enjoying it show. It would no doubt only inflate his already massive ego.
As I munch down the donut, I give him the side-eye. He looks well rested. Refreshed. His emerald eyes sparkling and bright. Makes me want to punch him right in his stupid bearded face.
“Looks like you had a great night,” I grumble.
He looks at me with an arched brow. “As a matter of fact, I did.”
That pisses me off and I roll my eyes. “Whatever, playboy.”
He clenches his jaw so hard, I can see a vein ticking in his cheek.
“How was your night, Wildcard?” he asks through gritted teeth.
“Wonderful,” I declare. “We had a great time together. I also stayed out all night.”
“Is that so?”
I give him a nod and a haughty grin. “Indeed it is.”
“Well, that’s fantastic for you.” His whole body is tense and he sounds pissed, which gives me a weird surge of satisfaction. “You seeing your guy again?”
“Yep. How about you?”
“Oh, definitely seeing my date again.”
My blood boils. So, he is capable of sticking around, huh?
“Great,” I hiss. “So happy for you.”
“Likewise.”
We glare at each other, the air practically sizzling between us.
I pop the last of my doughnut in my mouth. “Well, I guess I’ll get ready for our run.”
He nods. “Good idea. I’ll do that too.”
“Great. Meet you back out here in ten.”
“Perfect.”
We’re practically spitting venom at each other before I turn to hurry back down the hall, but Zander calls after me.
"And where are you going? I thought we were going running?"
"Well, maybe I don't want to go anymore," I shoot back.
"Suit yourself, I leave in fifteen minutes."
Ugh! He’s so intolerable!
"Fine!” I snap. “But don't expect me to enjoy it!"
My lungs burn and my muscles ache as we make our way along the jogging path in Cheesman Park.
It’s a fairly easy trail, and though I tried to convince Zander I could handle more of a challenge, he insisted we go here, and now I understand why.
I’m out of breath a lot sooner than I’d usually be on a run like this, so I begrudgingly appreciate the easier, straight-forward trail.
“You good?” Zander asks, glancing down at me as we try to keep pace with each other.
“Yeah,” I pant. “I’m fine.”
“Why don’t we take a quick break?” he suggests, slowing to a stop. “Have some water.”
I come to a stop next to him. “All right… sure.”
“People don’t usually take into account how thin the air is,” he says, sounding as though he’s not struggling at all. “It took me a while to really get used to it when I first came here.”
My first instinct is to take offense at his words, but the run has cooled my head a bit and I can tell that he’s not trying to insult me. He’s being genuine… even admitting to his own difficulties with this atmosphere.
I take a beat, soften my words a bit, and reply, “So, I take it you didn’t grow up around here?”
He shakes his head. “Nope. Nashville.”
My jaw drops. “No shit? I grew up in Nashville!”
He gives me a wry smile. “I know. You told me the night of the wedding. You just probably don’t remember.”
I tense, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. Fuck, I’ve never wanted to remember a night more than that one. What else did I say to him? How big of an idiot was I?
“Okay,” I murmur, wanting to move off this topic as quickly as possible. “So, you grew up in Nashville… how’d you end up here?”
“Went to the University of Minnesota on a scholarship for hockey.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Got drafted out of school to a team in Washington and played a couple seasons there before I was traded to the Night Hawks. Best thing that could’ve happened to me, honestly.
I can’t even imagine playing for another team now. ”
“Really? Not a lot of athletes would say the same. Hell, even Tom Brady didn’t stick with the Patriots when he became a free agent.”
“I’m happy where I am,” he answers simply. “And if I go anywhere else, it’s going to be back to Nashville. I’d like to be closer to my family.”
Huh, have to admit, I wasn’t expecting that. Before I can ask another question and do a bit more digging into his background, he checks his smartwatch.
“That’s enough,” he declares, his breathing heavy. “We should get back. I’ve got some things I need to do and I want to message my date from last night before noon.”
Irritation pokes at me and I can’t help but grumble, “Surprised you’re bothering to go back to this one.”
He narrows his eyes into a glare down at me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Shrugging, I cross my arms, avoiding his eyes. “Just surprised, is all. Must not have slept with this girl yet.”
“Are you for real?” he growls, his voice trembling as he fights to maintain his temper. “What’s with you thinking I’m such a playboy, huh? You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough!” I snap, meeting his gaze as my anger bursts into an inferno. “What else do you call a guy who hits it and quits it like you?”
“What are you talking about?” His eyes flash with frustration, which only fuels my fury.
“Don’t play dumb! The night of the wedding you hooked up with me and then just left without even telling me your name. Pretty shitty thing to do, especially when you clearly knew who I was and we have close mutual friends, asshat!”
He appears momentarily stunned before throwing his hands out in a desperate gesture.
“Are you kidding me? You didn’t even remember it was me that night until a few days ago.”
I gasp, my cheeks flooding with heat before I shake my head and wave my arms in front of me. “That’s besides the point!”
“It wasn’t even the first time we met,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken, his whole body rigid with tension. “You were just too drunk to remember me.”
“What?” I scoff. “We never met before the wedding… ”
He rolls his eyes. “We met in Nashville last year when the team was in town for an away game. You came out to the bar we were all at to hang out with Grace and Skyler. I came later and when I walked through the door, you ran into me and then proceeded to puke on my shoes.”
I stare at him, shocked. “That… that didn’t happen… ”
Shit… did I? I think back on that night and try to remember, but things are really hazy. I, uh, got pretty drunk that night… it was after my first breakup with Miles… so I suppose it could’ve happened.
Motherfucker.
I hold my chin up, though, and refuse to show any uncertainty in front of him.
“Oh, it definitely did, Wildcard.” His voice is low and strained.
“Even if I did puke on you, that doesn’t excuse the bullshit you pulled!” I shout back, giving no shits that people are shooting us startled looks as they pass us by.
“I didn’t do anything wrong except get mixed up with you,” he snaps.
My jaw drops. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Shrieking in fury, I spin around and storm away, stealing a single glance back at him to see that he’s marching off in the opposite direction. Good! I don’t want him anywhere near me right now!
That asshole can go jump in a river for all I care.