I reach over and grab my phone from her hands. Without another thought, I end the call. I’ve had it with this girl. I tried to keep my mouth shut, but no more. “Kara,” I say loudly. “I have no idea what I ever did to you, but I’m only going to say this once. Back. The. Fuck. Off.”
“Or what?” She sniffs. “You going to sit on me?”
When Bryant chuckles, that’s it. It’s like a stab in the back with a bowie knife. So, I turn to him. “Let me out, please.”
“Quinn,” he starts.
I give him my best glare. “Bryant. Let. Me. Out.”
He quickly slides out of the booth, and I follow him. Stepping away from the table, I move as fast as I can toward the back door. Thankfully, the place has thinned out a little, so it’s not a struggle to get through the crowd. When I’m nearly at the back door, I hear Patsy or one of them yelling my name, but I ignore them. I need to go home. I want to be by myself.
Stepping out onto Hayward Avenue, I turn north. When it meets up with Lincoln Way, I take a left just as my phone rings. I look down and see the FaceChat icon flashing. Without thinking, I press the button to answer. “Hello?”
“Quinn?”
My goodness, I could listen to him say my name forever in that pretty English accent. “Yeah?”
“What happened? You’re no longer at the pub, love?”
“I left.”
“Are you crying, love?”
“N-No.” Okay. A little.
“Why? Did I do something?”
“No.” My voice cracks. “Of course not. It was K-Kara.”
“She’s a right cow, eh?”
That makes me laugh. “If that means she’s a bitch, then yes.” I blow out a breath, trying to calm myself. “I barely know her, but she never stops saying terrible things about me.”
“She’s jealous, love.”
I know I should laugh at that, but I can’t. “I gotta go.” I hang up the phone again and shove it in my back pocket. “Jealous? Of me?” What a fucking joke.
I make it another block when my phone rings again. “Hello?”
“We keep getting disconnected.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Are you walking? Alone? After dark, love?”
“It’s not far. Ames is very safe.” I stare down at my phone and blink a few times because I can’t believe what I’m seeing. Cooke is getting dressed. Don’t worry, he’s not naked—not completely. He’s in a loose pair of shorts that show off his perfect abdominals. Now he’s sliding on a shirt. When he pulls it down, I can see it’s got the same logo, the flower, as I saw in the gym, and there’s an O and a 2 with it. “Is your team famous?”
He’s still moving around in what appears to be a hotel room. “We’re the best, love.”
“Are you on a college team?”
Cooke chuckles. “I’m going to send you a link later today. Check it out and that will answer your question.”
“Oh. Okay.” I pause. “So, not a college team?”
“No, love.” Cooke chuckles as he picks his phone back up. “You almost home?”
Oh, he wants to hang up. “Yep,” I lie. “Just walking up to my door now.”
