He has the nerve to look at me like I’m the irritating one. “I’ve been texting and calling you for the past two hours.”
I’m aware. “And I’ve been ignoring you for the past two hours.”
Something I’m certain he’s already figured out. Hence the stubborn ass is here.
I start to close the door, but he wedges his foot between it and the frame. “Friends don’t ghost friends, remember?”
Oh, this motherfucker.
Swinging the door open, I get in his face. “We are not friends.”
I want to cut the smug grin off his lips with a chainsaw. “Then how come you keep insisting we’re fuck buddies?”
“Were. As in past tense.” I flash him a vindictive smile. “Good night.”
He makes a growly sound deep in his throat. “Dammit, Lennon. Let me in.”
Despite knowing he’s bigger and stronger and could easily push his way through if he wanted to, I stand firm. “No.”
He drags a hand down his face. “I know you’re pissed because I attacked George.”
While I’ll admit that was totally uncalled for, he’s irrefutably missed the mark.
The fact he doesn’t even realize what’s wrong is the problem.
Phoenix is highly intelligent. It shouldn’t be hard for him to figure this out.
However, I throw him a bone because the quicker he knows, the quicker he’ll leave. “I’m not pissed. I’m upset.”
Hurt.
He blinks in confusion and it’s all I can do not to throw my hands up.
“Why? We both know you’re not into him—”
“I’m upset because I’m just like you!” I scream so loud I’m positive someone will call the front desk with a noise complaint.
My outburst only puzzles him more. “What?”
“I knew George had feelings for me that I didn’t return, but I used him anyway. Just like you used me.”
Follow the bouncing balls, jackass.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” A gruff noise leaves him, and he bulldozes past me into the room. “I told you, my feelings for you were—are—real.”
“Which makes what you did even worse.”
Because when you have feelings for someone, you don’t intentionally break them.
But he did. And now we’re here.
Stuck in a spot we’ll never be able to get out of.
My lungs freeze when he grabs my T-shirt between his fingers and tugs me forward. “I hate that I hurt you.”
It’s the second time he’s said that. Only the agony in his expression is somehow even stronger now.
So strong I find myself desperately wanting to believe him…despite my subconscious telling me I should know better.
The moment of silence between us feels like an entire lifetime before he finally releases me.
I notice the paper bag he’s holding as we break apart. “What’s in the bag?”
Face impassive, he reaches inside it and pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels along with two red Solo cups.
The memory slices through me like a blade.
“You’re not supposed to drink, remember?”
Something he promised me—but shocker—he lied.
His expression hardens, almost like he knows what I’m thinking, and it perturbs him. “Good thing I filled it with iced tea then.”
Dammit. Fine. He didn’t lie this time. Whoopty-freakin-do.
I watch in confusion as he walks over to the small desk in the corner of the room and proceeds to fill both cups.
Then he hands me one.
“What are you doing?”
Giving me an impish smile, Phoenix taps his Solo against mine. “We should play a drinking game for old times’ sake.”
I pin him with a look that makes his smile fall. “Let’s not.”
Some dumb game we played in high school isn’t going to miraculously make us friends again.
Granted, it worked back then, but there’s a world of difference between kissing a girl and ignoring her for three days…and ruining someone who was in love with you for your own selfish gain.
“Lennon.”
There’s an edge to his voice, but I don’t care.
“I’m not playing this stupid game.”
Disregarding that, he raises his cup in the air. “I’ll start. Never have I ever had a curfew.”
Seriously? It’s been over four years. You’d think he’d have a better opener.
In spite of my enmity for him and this ridiculous game he’s determined to play, I take a small sip.