Oh, fuck, I am a stage five clinger. I never thought I’d see the daywhere I was the needy one in a relationship. I don’tneedpeople. But I guess that doesn’t apply to Kip.
And no, after our conversation and everything last night, I don’t think he’s ghosting me again. Right? I mean…unless he took pity on me because I showed up at the club and basically stalked him and forced him to interact with me. Oh, shit. I am a stalker, aren’t I? I’ve been to therapy, I’m on depression and anxiety meds, I know I struggle with mental health. But stalking? Forcing a dude to like me…woah…that’s a new low. Did I also force him to hook-up with me? Shit, shit, fuck.
But…but…something is telling me that I should be worried about him. That I’m not losing it, and that everything last night was consensual. Would he have texted me this morning and called me sweetheart if he didn’t like me back?
There’s a pull in my heart and my gut, urging me to check on Kip. It wasn’t like that when he ghosted me all those days. This is an incessantneedto make sure he’s okay. That has to meansomething.
I make the only choice that feels right, and go out of my way to stop at Pump Palace to see if Kip is still there.
Newsflash, he isn’t. I know this because the receptionist told me that there was an accident this morning, and afterwards Kip left because he wasn’t feeling well. He had to cancel the rest of his sessions for today. Damn, what kind of accident? The receptionist wouldn’t tell me. I asked if he was alright, and she said he wasn’t the one injured.
Even though Kip isn’t here, I see that Tyson is.
I’m going to be honest, I don’t like Tyson. I guess that isn’t all that surprising, seeing as I really don’t like anybody, with a few exceptions. But I really don’t like Tyson. Especially with the way he’s treated and used Kip. But, Tyson is Kip’s roommate, so maybe he knows what’s going on.
I push through the doors from the lobby into the gym, ignoring the receptionist as she calls after me “Stop, sir, wait!”
“Tyson!” I call out to him. It looks like he’s finishing up with a client. “Hey, Tyson!”
He glances at me, and then does a double take as he realizes who I am.
“Can I talk to you?” I stop right in front of him, as his client looks back and forth between the two of us.
“Uh, I’m kind of busy, kid.” He turns away. “Sorry about that Jen, let’s do the next set.”
I huff. “I’m not a kid, I’m twenty-four. And this can’t wait. I just want to know if Kip is okay.”
Tyson freezes. Taking a deep breath as if steeling himself, he turns to Jen “You’re my last client of the day. Do you mind if I deal with this, and I’ll give you an extra fifteen minutes of free time with me in exchange?”
“Ummm, sure…” She replies, her wide eyes darting back and forth between us.
“Great, thanks.” Tyson whips around, grabs me around the bicep, and tugs me towards the locker rooms.
Once we’re alone, he drops my arm and turns on me. “What are you doing here? Can’t you see I’m working? Why don’t you text Kip and bother him instead of interrupting my session with a client!”
I cross my arms, standing tall and leveling him with a glare. Well, I’m about a half foot shorter than him, so it’s not really leveling, but I try my best. “I have texted Kip, several times today and he hasn’t even read them. Also, the receptionist said there was an accident today and he left afterwards because he didn’t feel good. I want to check on him.”
“Did you ever think that maybe he isn’t responding to your messages because he doesn’t want to talk to you? You’re acting kind of psychotic. It’s no wonder he wants nothing to do with you.” Tyson’s shoulders are squared as he stares down at me.
“We both know that isn’t true.” My voice wobbles a bit with insecurity, but I push on, trying to not only convince myself, but also Tyson. “We wouldn’t have spent the night wrapped in each other's arms all night if he wanted nothing to do with me. And, he texted me this morning and called me sweetheart. So, if you’d stop being a dickhead, I’d really like to have your address so I can go check that he’s okay.”
“You know what? Fine. Go check on him. He probably won’t answer the door, knowing that it’s you.” Tyson holds out his hand expectantly. “Give me your phone, I’ll put the address in your maps.”
I slap it into his waiting palm after unlocking it. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
Chapter Eighteen
Kip
The Dungeon Master
The high-pitched humming buzzes through my head and skin as Tyson presses the cattle prod against my chest again. “Fuck!” I roar.
“If you could control yourself around the blood, I wouldn’t need to do this, dude.” Tyson sighs exasperatedly, like my pain is an inconvenience for him.
Through clenched teeth, I hiss “What do you fucking expect? I’ve been a vamp for like a week, and you haven’t taught me shit during that time.”
