“Are you for real?” he growls, his voice trembling as he fights to maintain his temper. “What’s with you thinking I’m such a playboy, huh? You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough!” I snap, meeting his gaze as my anger bursts into an inferno. “What else do you call a guy who hits it and quits it like you?”
“What are you talking about?” His eyes flash with frustration, which only fuels my fury.
“Don’t play dumb! The night of the wedding you hooked up with me and then just left without even telling me your name. Pretty shitty thing to do, especially when you clearly knew who I was and we have close mutual friends, asshat!”
He appears momentarily stunned before throwing his hands out in a desperate gesture.
“Are you kidding me? You didn’t even remember it was me that night until a few days ago.”
I gasp, my cheeks flooding with heat before I shake my head and wave my arms in front of me. “That’s besides the point!”
“It wasn’t even the first time we met,” he continues as if I hadn’t spoken, his whole body rigid with tension. “You were just too drunk to remember me.”
“What?” I scoff. “We never met before the wedding… ”
He rolls his eyes. “We met in Nashville last year when the team was in town for an away game. You came out to the bar we were all at to hang out with Grace and Skyler. I came later and when I walked through the door, you ran into me and then proceeded to puke on my shoes.”
I stare at him, shocked. “That… that didn’t happen… ”
Shit… did I? I think back on that night and try to remember, but things are really hazy. I, uh, got pretty drunk that night… it was after my first breakup with Miles… so I suppose it could’ve happened.
Motherfucker.
I hold my chin up, though, and refuse to show any uncertainty in front of him.
“Oh, it definitely did, Wildcard.” His voice is low and strained.
“Even if I did puke on you, that doesn’t excuse the bullshit you pulled!” I shout back, giving no shits that people are shooting us startled looks as they pass us by.
“I didn’t do anything wrong except get mixed up with you,” he snaps.
My jaw drops. “Fuck you!”
“Fuck you!”
Shrieking in fury, I spin around and storm away, stealing a single glance back at him to see that he’s marching off in the opposite direction. Good! I don’t want him anywhere near me right now!
That asshole can go jump in a river for all I care.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: IN OR OUT
RYLEE
By the timeI get back to the apartment, I’m a bit calmer and more rational. I’m also a little worried that Zander didn’t follow me home, and I don’t know where he’s gone.
I really didn’t mean it when I said he could go jump in a river.
As I think about our fight, embarrassment burns through me. Good Lord, what is wrong with me? Why did I scream at him like that? And to not remember that I puked on him that one time in Nashville…
I could just curl up and die from humiliation.
Needing a shower, I wander into my bedroom. Gizmo is sitting on the bed, as if he’s been waiting for me to get back… and he’s looking at me like he knows what happened and is judging me.
“Stop that,” I hiss before escaping his gaze by ducking into the bathroom.
By the time I get out of the shower and dressed, Zander still isn’t back. My guilt becomes a heavy rock in my belly. Making my way back out to the kitchen, I decide to make lunch and open the fridge.
