Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(78)
There’s only one thing that runs through my mind before it all goes dark.
In just a few days, this is all going to disappear.
BRADEN
The bed is cold when I wake up, my least favourite feeling as of late. I don’t have time to get frustrated by Sierra leaving because I hear her voice in the apartment, muffled by my closed bedroom door. The sound makes my lips lift in a smile as I sit up and stretch my arms behind my head. I look down at the pink pillow resting beside my black one and gnaw on my lip.
I’ve never been the guy to let a girl so much as keep a sock at his house, let alone half of the kind of shit that I find littered around here now. There’s no room that’s safe from the Sierra invasion, but I can’t find it in myself to give a shit. It’s so natural to me now seeing an extra toothbrush on the bathroom counter or a pair of booty shorts in my laundry basket.
Maybe that makes me a pussy-whipped loser. Who the hell knows.
Reaching down beside the bed, I stretch my arm out to grab a t-shirt from the floor but freeze when my nightstand starts buzzing. As I move to pick up the vibrating phone, I hesitate when I notice it’s Sierra’s.
Do I, or don’t I? Is there a rule that says I can’t pick up her phone when it rings?
With a shrug of my shoulders I grab it and flip it over, raising my brows at the caller ID on the screen. My pride gets the better of me and I answer the call with a clenched jaw.
“What do you want?”
“Who is this? Is Sierra there?” Cole asks, his tone cautious. Good, he should be nervous.
“It’s her boyfriend,” I all but growl at him, surprising myself when I use the title. We’ve never really discussed placing a label on our relationship, but this fucker doesn’t need to know that.
“Right.” He clears his throat. “Well is Sierra available to talk? We need to discuss her flight times.”
My eyes narrow as my stomach clenches, worry building in my spine. “What do you mean, flight times?” Don’t tell me he’s attempting to take her on a trip somewhere. I’ll break both of his knee caps and push him in a busy street.
“Yes. Flight times. For her move to Toronto next week,” he says, as if I’m a complete idiot for not knowing what he’s talking about. There’s an unmissable amount of happiness in his tone that has my fingers curling and nostrils flaring.
“She hasn’t decided if she’s taking your creepy ass offer yet, dickbag,” I grind out, gripping my jaw tightly. “You’re messing with the wrong fucking girl, Cole Taylor. Don’t think that I won’t break you in half just because you’re my girl's boss. I promise you that she would not sympathize with you in the slightest.”
“Is that so?” He sounds bored. And fuck does that piss me off. “I’m sorry to be the one to inform you, but she has actually taken my offer. Maybe you should have a talk with your girlfriend before throwing such careless threats around. It seems that you’re not on the same page. Please make sure you tell her to call me after you have your much needed talk.”
The dial tone rings in my ear after he hangs up on me. I squeeze my eyes shut and dig deep for any ounce of calmness left in my ice cold body.
I know that I haven’t exactly been the most open about what exactly I wanted from this relationship, but I assumed she knew me well enough to know that I didn’t think of this as a fling. I might not be ready to offer her a future of forever, but I would try and give her something close, if that’s what she wanted.
The thought of not having her anymore is like being stabbed from front to back with a serrated knife only to have it ripped back out again. The mere idea of it makes bile sting my throat and my heart crack down the middle.
After spending the past couple of months getting to know each other, I would have hoped that she would have told me about something as big as her taking a job across the country. If not for her own conscience, then for me. Because if she is planning on leaving, then I don’t know why the fuck we’ve been wasting our time together, building something that would only burn to the ground.
With a fire raging in my chest, I toss her phone on the bed and stand, nearly ripping my door off its hinges as I open it. I spot her leaning against the kitchen counter wearing a baggy shirt and pyjama pants as she laughs at something Clayton must have said.
Unable to hold myself back, I yank off the bandaid without warning. “When were you going to tell me that you took that fucking job?”
When she spins to stare at me, wide-eyed and tense, I know that Cole was telling the truth. That fucking weasel was telling the truth and she’s been lying to me for days. What a slap to the face.
“Brade—” she squeaks, but I cut her off with a dark chuckle.
“I never took you for a liar, Sierra. It definitely doesn’t suit you.”
“I never lied to you. I hadn’t decided yet,” she mumbles, staring at her toes, her neck a dark shade of red. Guilt flows off of her in waves, but I don’t let it affect me. I refuse to back down from this. My pride is far too bruised from being played like a Goddamn fiddle to care about how bad she feels.
“That’s not an excuse. You had plenty of time over the past few days to tell me. I’ve been with you constantly. But you were going to wait, right? Until when? The day you left? Well sorry to ruin all of your fun, but I know now and I’m done wasting my time.”