"Fuck you guys," I grumble. "Stay out of it."
I shovel the rest of my food down as fast as I can. The bland pasta could be ash for all I taste it. All I can think about is that picture Scout sent before puck drop. Her curled on my couch, curls tumbling loose over her shoulders. Warm and soft and completely off limits.
I hate that the only thing keeping me awake tonight won't be replaying our defensive breakdowns.
Back in my hotel room, the silence irritates me. I stretch my shoulder until it twinges with warning pain. Ice it for twenty minutes. Scroll through my phone because I can't settle.
A text from Scout lights up my screen.
Scout
How's the shoulder?
Fuck my traitorous heart for beating faster at the slightest interest from her. She's just checking on me because I'm her project. Remembering that would serve me best. I type a response, delete it, type again.
Silas
Tight. Can yoga help?
Scout
Depends on the stretch. Want me to send you one?
Silas
Maybe. How's home?
Scout
Boring without you here. How's your hotel room?
Impulse wins over common sense. I peel off my shirt, adjust the ice pack strapped to my shoulder, and snap a photo. Shirtless in the hotel bed, abs on display, just enough to make my point. I hit send before I can overthink it.
Scout
You're ridiculous. But at least you're icing like I told you to.
I almost type something about missing her. My thumb hovers over the letters. Then I delete it and set the phone face down on the nightstand.
But the silence doesn't stick. My phone vibrates again. This time, a notification from the dating app scrolls across my home screen, demanding attention it shouldn't get.
A new message waits.
Yoga4Lyfe
Want to get a drink tonight?
Staring at the message, my jaw works. Meeting her sounds incredible. It also sounds terrifying. It’s impossible, because explaining why I can't show up in person wouldrequire confessing that I'm Silas, her roommate, the guy who created a fake profile just to stalk her.
Telling her the truth would be the smart move. The right move. It’s the only move that makes any kind of reasonable sense.
But I'm an idiot, so I don't do any of that.
StatMan12
Right now, all I want is to pin a woman down, fist her curls in my hands, and bury my face between her thighs until she's sobbing my name.
The three dots appear almost immediately. Her reply hits fast.
