Chapter 15 #3
He shakes his head, doing that move where he seems to physically break himself free from his thoughts.
“I’m making it sound worse than it is. I know they love me.
They’re just disappointed. And I’m sure things would be better if I was more like my brothers and I wasn’t such a scatterbrained mess, but my broken engagement is just more proof that I’ll never get my shit together. ”
“That’s fucked up.”
He laughs, and there’s a hint of genuine humor in it this time. “Yup, but that’s how we roll in the Parker house.”
His phone starts vibrating again, and the smile instantly drops from his face as he slumps even lower in his seat.
“I should go,” he says, his tone as defeated as his posture. “She’ll just keep calling until I answer.”
“Is now the best time to talk to her?” I ask as he pushes his chair back and stands.
“No, but there’s never going to be a right time,” he says as he goes to retrieve his phone from my couch.
“She’ll just keep calling until I answer, and the longer I avoid her calls, the more worked up she’ll be when I finally do answer.
” He quickly glances at the screen of his phone, then shoves it into his hoodie pocket.
“Was that her?” I ask as I stand too.
He nods and shoves his hands deep into his sweatpants pockets, his eyes on a spot on the floor between us. “Sorry I wasn’t better company, and that we couldn’t work on our project because of my drama.”
He looks up when I take a step closer to him, and his eyes never leave mine as I close the distance between us in a half dozen long, slow strides and stop when we’re only a few feet apart.
“Strike two,” I tell him in a low voice, purposely using the same tone I used in his bedroom earlier.
His eyes widen. “Strike two?” he asks, his voice breathy and soft as he stares at me like I have the answers to the meaning of life.
I nod. “Are we going to get to strike three?”
He visibly swallows, and it takes way more effort than it should to keep my eyes locked on his and not watch the muscles in his throat work.
“No,” he whispers.
“Good,” I say, adding a little purr to the word just because it’s fun.
Something flickers in his eyes, but it’s gone so quickly I can’t tell if it was recognition or surprise.
“So,” I say, switching back to my normal voice. “The project.”
It’s probably fucked up to mess with West when he’s like this, but it’s just too much fun not to. And he doesn’t seem all that pressed about it either since he looks like he’s a step away from begging for my dick.
“Right!” he says way too loudly. “Yeah, we really need to get on that. Maybe we can meet tomorrow?”
I shake my head. “I have a game tomorrow night.”
“Game?” He looks confused for a moment, then his eyes widen, like he just put two puzzle pieces together. “You’re on the house hockey team. Because of course you are. You literally went to school for hockey.” He shakes his head. “I swear I’m not usually this stupid.”
“I’m making a separate rule about you putting yourself down and calling yourself names.” I take a half step closer so our toes are only about an inch apart, and our chests would probably touch if we both pulled in a deep breath. “And that was strike one.”
“What happens if I get to strike three?” he asks, echoing his earlier question.
“You’ll find out if you get there,” I tell him, echoing my own words. “How about the day after?”
He blinks a few times, obviously confused by the sudden change in conversation.
“To work on our project,” I clarify. “Since I have a game tomorrow. We can meet the next night.”
“But the next day is Friday. You don’t have plans?”
“Nope. Do you?”
He snort-laughs. “Depends if you consider me and my newly single ass getting fucked up and pretending the world outside of my room doesn’t exist plans or not.”
“So yay or nay for working on our project?” I ask, making sure to add a playful lilt to my voice so he knows I’m teasing.
“Yay,” he says quickly. “Definitely yay.”
“Okay, same time, same place on Friday then?”
He nods.
“Do your plans after you talk to your mother tonight include getting fucked up and pretending the world outside your room doesn’t exist?”
We’re still way closer than we need to be, but West doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to put some distance between us as he shoots me a wry grin. “Yup. Tonight is a goodbye logic and reason, hello bad decisions kind of night.”
“Is the bad part of your decision getting fucked up, or what happens after?”
“After. Getting blackout drunk is the fun part. The hangover the next day is the unfortunate price of being able to shut my brain off for a few hours.”
“Do you want something that won’t give you a hangover?”
He perks up. “Yeah? You have something?”
“I have lots of somethings,” I tell him and head over to my bedside table. “Are you looking for something that will knock you the fuck out and let you sleep like the dead, or do you want something that will make you forget how to feel feelings first?”
“Knock me the fuck out,” he says after a brief pause.
“As much as I want to just forget everything for a while, I’m not in the right headspace to have the rest of my inhibitions stripped away.
I’ve already done one insane thing tonight when I was completely sober.
I don’t even want to think about what I might do if I get high off my ass and stop giving a fuck about anything. ”
I pull the drawer of my bedside table open. “What did you do that was crazy?”
His cheeks and neck flush bright red. “Oh, um,” he stammers. “You know, just breaking off my engagement and all that.”
I know he’s talking about when he let me fuck him in his room earlier, but I don’t call him on it. And as much fun as round two would be if he did decide to text me later tonight, I don’t want it to happen when he’s high.
Not for any altruistic reasons. As far as I’m concerned, West is mine until I decide I’m done with him, but I want him to remember every second of it, and it wouldn’t be the same if he didn’t.
“So you want something that will knock you the fuck out?” I ask.
“Yes, please.”
I pull a pill bottle out of the drawer and wave him over. “Two of these will do the trick.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” he says, quickly crossing the room.
“You’ll have between ten and thirty minutes before these kick in.
” I tip the pills into his outstretched hand.
“Make sure you’re somewhere comfortable because you won’t have much time once they do.
And you’ll need at least eight hours before anyone comes looking for you because you’re not going to be easy to wake up until they wear off. ”
“Thanks,” he says, his tone soft. “For…everything.”
“Anytime, partner.”
He smiles, and I don’t miss the way his eyes drop to my mouth and linger for a few beats.
“I should go,” he says, his voice heavy with regret. “I have a hot date with some tranqs I don’t want to miss.”
“See you around,” I say, using my sex voice again.
He mumbles something that sounds a lot like “Later” as he scurries away, and I’m chuckling as my room door closes behind him.
Messing with West is way more fun than it should be, and a better man would tell him the truth about who he’s been messaging while he’s going through all of this.
Too bad I’m not a better man, or even a good one, and I’m going to keep playing this game for as long as he keeps coming back for more.