Playing Hard to Get(51)

I don’t want to be treated like some side piece no one knows about, if that’s what he’s really proposing. Talk about making me feel like shit.

“How am I going to keep it from her when she lives with me and you’re coming over tonight? You expect me to sneak you in through my window?” I’m totally joking about the last part, but…

“That’s not a bad idea.” He scratches his chin, seriously contemplating it.

No. Not gonna happen.

“It’s a terrible idea.” Huh. Maybe he shouldn’t come over after all. “I could go to your place.”

“No way.” He shakes his head. “I live with Cam. He’ll tell everyone I had a girl over and the celibacy plan is ruined. I’ll owe everyone a bunch of money.”

Which means I’m not worth it—and that’s fine. We barely know each other. We’ve had a couple of hot hookups and they’ve been fun but…

Irritation zips through my blood and I stand, poking him in the chest with my index finger. “You know what? I’ve changed my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want you coming over. I’m not your secret hook-up. I’m not…anything like that. I’ve been lied to by a guy before. And I’m pretty sure I’ve been kept a secret. I refuse to ever let that happen again.” Grabbing my coffee and my book bag, I start to walk away from him. “See you Thursday!”

“Joanna!” He calls after me, but I don’t turn back. I keep walking, my head held high, my heart in my stomach. None of that went as I’d hoped. Not even close.

God. Men are truly the worst.





“And so you just left him there on the bench?” Natalie asks, her expression incredulous.

“You bet I did. I’m not going to let him treat me like that. I don’t care if he’s a god on campus or whatever you want to call him.” I wiggle my fingers at her, indicating I want more of the peach whiskey she’s currently clutching in her hand.

She hands it over and I take a long pull from it, straight from the bottle, making an ahhh noise after I swallow it down. We’ve been drinking for over thirty minutes and I’m starting to feel the effects.

My vision is blurry. My head is pounding. I might even be slurring my words. Only slightly though.

Damn that peach whiskey is strong.

“Did he text you about it?”

I shake my head. “I haven’t heard a word from him. He’s a complete chicken shit.”

“Ouch.” Nat is grinning. I know she’s eating this up. She’s been wanting me to hook up with someone since Bryan and I split up. “Knox Maguire aka King Chicken Shit! That’s his new nickname.”

I laugh, nodding as I hand the bottle back to her. “He deserves that nickname. We were having a great conversation. He bought me coffee. He asked to get together tonight. Everything was good. We were vibing. Then he had to go and ruin it all.”

“Men. They’re pathetic.”

“You’re damn right.” I frown, taking the bottle from her and downing more of the awful whiskey. It’s honestly not that good. The peach flavoring makes the liquor a little more tolerable, but this shit is way too sweet. I need to ease up or else I’m going to be tasting it coming back up, and that’ll be worse than it is going down. “I don’t get him.”

“I don’t get any of them,” Natalie stresses.

“He had his hands all over me.” I didn’t go into too much detail with Nat about what happened in that meeting room in the library, but it was undoubtedly the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. Hands fucking down. “He told me he couldn’t stop thinking about me.”

“I guess he wasn’t thinking that much of you.” Nat finishes off the last of the whiskey, setting the empty bottle on our tiny kitchen table. “We need more liquor.”

“No, we don’t.” I shake my head, hating the way her words make me feel. I don’t want to think like that. I want to hold onto the idea that Knox is totally into me. At least for a little while.

As a secret, that horrible little voice in my head reminds me. That’s it.

I shove that nasty voice to the darkest corner of my brain, mentally telling it to shut the fuck up.

“We do.” Nat nods, glancing around our small dining room, which isn’t a dining room at all. More an extension of our equally tiny kitchen. “I have a great idea. Let’s drown your sorrows at Logan’s.”

“No freaking way, Natalie. I’m not going to Logan’s.” My voice is firm.

She mock pouts. “But Derek might be there.”

“Oh please. You want to see him again? After he essentially ghosted you?” After I told her what happened between me and Knox, she confessed that she hasn’t heard a single word from Derek since Saturday night, the rat bastard. They didn’t have sex that night, but they did mess around and she thought he was totally into her.

The jerk.

“Maybe,” she admits.

“Fuck that guy,” I tell her, thrusting my finger in her face. She bats my hand away, laughing.

“I want to ‘accidentally’ run into him and give him a piece of my mind.” Natalie crosses her arms in front of her chest, leaning back in the chair so far, she tips it over, falling onto the floor. “Oh my God!”