I can’t believe what she said to me the next morning…
“About last night”she’d started, staring very hard at the coffee machine. “We were drunk and dumb and?—”
“And you came so hard that the imprints of your nails in my back will probably scar,” I’d supplied like a total champion.
“That is…not going on the official record.”
Her cheeks turned violent red.
I could have pushed it, reminded her how I completely unraveled her, but I was feeling benevolent.
“Relax, Pips,” I’d said. “I’m not asking you to sign a lease. We had a good time. I’m not going to pretend we didn’t.
She bit her lip then, casting a furtive glance in my direction like if she wasn’t careful, the sight of me could burn out her retinas.
“Great, so we’re agreed. It was a one-time thing. Just, you know…casual idiocy.”
If that was us being idiots, I can’t fucking wait to see what we’re like when we know what we’re doing.
I cleared my throat and nodded along, telling her what she wanted to hear. “Sure.”
“You know this doesn’t change anything,” she was quick to add, swirling her coffee. “You’re still the most infuriating man I’ve ever met.”
She didn’t like it when I grinned at that. “Mmhmmm.”
“I mean it. You’re literally the worst.”
I nodded. “Sure, Pips. We can keep calling it hate if it makes you feel better.”
Her face paled. “What else would you call it?”
I’d scoffed and set my mug in the sink, leaving her alone to stew over it, not really sure myself.
“It’s your turn, Ryan,” James says, a note of impatience in his tone that tells me it might not be the first time he’s said it.
I look up at him, bringing myself out of the Pippa spiral. “What do I do, again?”
“You place one of your infantry on a country you already control,” he says. James is the most patient guy I’ve ever known, but his voice already sounds strained. I really am annoying him with my complaining, and it’s way too tempting to see how far I can push him.
“Can I trade Argentina for China?” I ask. “Because I could really go for some dim sum.”
“No.”
Sighing with exasperation, I put one of my little dudes on China. “We could ditch the game and go out for dim sum. Nothing stopping us.”
“Your turn, Luke,” James says, ignoring me.
My pocket starts ringing. It’s “Crazy Bitch” by Buckcherry—the custom ringtone for Pippa, which I set when I was about eighteen. It seemed funny at the time, even though she never called me, so the joke didn’t really land.
In fact, it’s weird that I’m hearing from her now. She’s supposed to be on a date, so why is she calling me?
Part of me wants to shove the phone in my pocket and pretend I never got it. If Pippa’s going to avoid me, well, two can play at that game.
But what if something’s wrong?
Aggravated, I pick up the call.
“Hello?” Pippa says at the same time that I do.
