It’s just two words.
B: Not tonight.
My eyebrows pinch in the middle. She’s canceling plans we only made this morning? I guess I can’t expect her to be at my beck and call and a break might be a good idea, but it doesn’t feel right. We’ve been fucking multiple times a day, and most of those times Blair initiated, beating me to the punch.
Me: Okay.
It sounds harsh, like I’m pissed off, and truthfully... I am. I clench and unclench my fists, annoyance dancing at the edge of my mind. I was looking forward to tonight. Got her favorite wine and planned to feed her Chinese takeout before letting her leave.
Even if she’d throw a fit that I’mbreaking the rules!which she probably would.
Colt joins me outside, leaning against the wall a few steps to my left, pulling his cigarettes from his pocket.
“Feels like we’re losing touch,” he says, staring into the sky. “Conor’s with Vee most of the time, you’re locked in your condo, I’m working my ass off...”
“That’s normal. We had to grow up sometime, but I don’t think we’re losing touch.”
“Yeah? Because not so long ago we couldn’t go a day without talking through anything that happened, and now look at us. You didn’t even tell me Ana’s still stalking you.”
“Nothing new happened, Colt. Not so long ago, you were trying not to share every tiny detail of your life with us, and now you’re pissed off that I’m not whining about Ana every time she shows up?”
He grinds his teeth, knowing damn well I’m right. “I don’t want you to feel you can’t talk to me just because we don’t live in the same house, okay? There’s suddenly distance between us and I don’t like it.”
“I know we can talk. If there’s something worth mentioning, I’ll call.”
“You sure there’s nothing you want to mention now?”
My heartbeat accelerates. There’s no way he knows about my deal with Blair. No way. We’ve not been caught or even near-caught—
Fuck! Ana...
If she blabbed, I’m screwed. What do I tell him? How do I explain myself? What excuse can I conjure? I’m not great with making shit up on the spot, so I drag out the silence, racking my brain and coming up empty.
How do I explain that the Blair we both know and hate hides a different girl inside? One that’s kind, helpful, and broken. One that needs someone to believe she means every word when she apologizes. Someone to hold her when she cries and kiss her when she smiles.
Colt wouldn’t believe me.
“You got something to ask?” I huff, no clue what to say if he gets it right. “Ask away, Colt. Don’t play games.”
I don’t think Ana called Colt to tell him she caught me with Blair. Why would she? They exchanged maybe ten sentences total since the night inThe Ramshacklast year.
Ana doesn’t know anything about Mia’s bullying or why this dalliance with Blair could hurt me and the people around me if anyone found out.
I take a deep breath, cooling my jets.
“Fine,” Colt says, pushing away from the wall, looking annoyed. “Blair. What’s happening, Cody? First you hate her, then you knock out Alan. Now you’re MIA most of the time.”
He doesn’t know shit.
He’s just fishing for information in true Colt fashion. If he knows I’m fucking Blair on the side, he’d call me out on it.
“Don’t throw Alan in my face. You know why I did that. You knocked him out for the same fucking reason. I would’ve been pissed off regardless of who he had in that closet. Nothing to do with Blair.”
At the time, I believed it, but things changed quickly. Well, not that quickly. Blair and I have been neighbors for almost two months, and she’s been spending hours upon hours on my cock for two weeks now.
We don’t talk unless it’s related to sex, but I’m learning so much about her while she’s under me and even more right after when we lay in bed, coming down from the high. Silence, gestures, facial expressions... all speak volumes.
I’ve not realized this until I saw her leave her condo last night, but somewhere along the line, I learned how to figure out where she’s heading based on what she wears. Short, tight, colorful dresses when she’s meeting her friends. Red, hooker-styled ones when I don’t think I want to know where she’s heading. Skinny jeans that look painted-on and pretty blouses when she’s volunteering at the hospital, and... anything goes when she’s with me. Sweats, jeans, shorts, pj’s.
