Disappointment crashes down on me as I watch him disappear up the stairs. He doesn’t look back. Not even once.
I don’t sleep a wink. I’m too riled up. Too turned on. Too angry. Too confused.
Too everything.
I’m not the kind of girl who likes drama. If I was, I would’ve already agreed to be Isaac’s girlfriend; he’s as melodramatic and over-the-top as they come. Me, I’ve made it a point in my life to be as drama-free as possible, which is why Wyatt’s erratic and unpredictable behavior last night grates so much.
Why the hell did he mess with my head like that?
Although I’m up at dawn, I force myself to remain in bed until a less obscene time, finally heading downstairs around 6:45. Everyone else is still asleep. I don’t hear any whispered voices. No soft footsteps. So I’m startled when I enter the kitchen to find Wyatt drinking a coffee at the counter.
The same counter where he dry humped me into oblivion last night.
“Morning,” he says.
His tone is…normal. No awkwardness. Not a trace of tension.
“Morning,” I reply.
“Coffee’s fresh.” Wyatt nods toward the counter.
I hide my frown as I walk to the coffee maker. “Did you sleep at all?”
“Not really.” He watches me, casually sipping his coffee like he hadn’t set me on fire a mere six hours ago.
Silence descends over the kitchen. I grab a mug from the cupboard. Wyatt says nothing as I pour, as I observe him over the rim of the mug.
Seconds tick by. The silence drags on.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Are we not going to talk about last night?”
A wrinkle appears in his brow. “What do you mean?”
I stare at him. “Do you not remember what happened?”
Wyatt gives me a blank look that makes my stomach sink. “I was pretty gone,” he admits, scratching the back of his neck. “Did I do something stupid?”
I search his face for even a flicker of memory, but all I see is blank curiosity. “You don’t rememberanything?”
“No. I was wasted.” He studies my expression. “Shit. Was I an asshole to you? What did I say?”
The knot in my chest tightens. He really doesn’t remember.
“No,” I say, forcing a shrug. “You weren’t a total ass. Just made a couple comments about Isaac and our relationship.”
He smiles faintly. “Sorry. I was probably just looking out for you.”
Then, in that maddeningly big-brother way he’d done two years ago, he reaches out and ruffles my hair.
“Don’t listen to me, kid. I don’t know shit about love.” Wyatt shrugs. “You should give your football player a chance. Seems like he genuinely likes you.”
My cheeks are scorching. I don’t know whether to be mortified or furious. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks, Wyatt. Maybe I will.”
Chapter 1
BLAKE
