Maybe the socks I threw out weren’t his lucky ones. Maybe they’re just some other rough-for-wear pair he had.
Easton hardly has the car in park before he tosses the keys to me and getting out, jogging toward the house.
When I get inside, he’s on the common room couch, watching TV with some of the guys.
Having no more energy for the day, I head for bed.
Tonight was a shitshow, and I hope Tyler doesn’t think that this is over. He hurt my best friend, and I plan on giving him a piece of my damn mind. I won’t lay a hand on him again, but I want him to know what he did was fucked up, and he doesn’t deserve my best friend.
Why do people hurt the ones they claim to love?
I couldn’t imagine hurting the person I loved. Whenever I find my person,theperson, I’d fight. I’d put in the effort. Because if you really do love someone, wouldn’t it be worth it to fight for them?
I just wish someone would have fought for me. Who knows, maybe someday I’ll have someone who does.
I want what my parents have. I don’t need sunshine and rainbows. I don't care if it’s messy or if the person isn’t perfect. I just want that person to love me, to fight for me, just as much as I would for them.
My biggest fear is getting hurt again. Risking so much to open up, give everything I have, only to have my heart broken.
Maybe I wasn’t meant to find that kind of love, or maybe I just haven’t found it yet. Either way, I want it. I want it all. The good, the bad, and the ugly.
Chapter 11
Easton
It’s Halloween night, but there also happens to be a hockey game tonight. Normally, I couldn’t give two shits about going to a game, but tonight I’ve got ulterior motives.
Bennett thought he could fuck with me by throwing out my socks? Nah. Luck was on my side, and I found them before they were gone for good.
For him, on the other hand, karma is coming out to play.
Did I use Taylor to get some information out of him? Yes. And it came in handy, because I found out what his lucky charm is.
A pair of ugly ass boxers that resemble assless underwear more than anything else.
As soon as Taylor told me, I searched our room for them, even his hockey bag, but couldn’t find anything. I was ready to give up on my revenge when I walked into our room this afternoon and saw the very pair of boxers sitting on his bed.
Bennett was taking a shower, and I had the perfect opportunity to snatch them. It was now or never, so I grabbed them and shoved them in my football bag. I couldn’t risk him finding them in the trash. Not that I’d throw them out, because unlike him, I’m not a monster.
When he came back from his shower to get ready for the game, he started freaking out, looking for them.
I hate that a part of me felt guilty. He looked pretty upset. Then I remembered what he did, and well, fuck him. He deserved it.
“I hope Bennett is okay,” Aria says, shifting in her seat. “He seemed so upset.”
Taylor casts me a guilty look. “I think we took it too far,” she says, voice low so only I can hear.
“No,” I whisper-hiss. “He was going to throw out my socks! He deserves this.”
“But he didn't. You got them in time. No harm done.”
I narrow my eyes. “Are you on his side?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m not on anyone's side.”
“You should be on mine,” I growl. “I’m your boyfriend."
“Easton.” She gives me a look. “You're acting like a child.”
