Page 24 of Left In The Dark

“Nah. You wouldn’t want that. I have to go myself. My mom won’t be too happy if I bring her melted butter.”

Her laugh is so overexaggerated as she bats her eyes, and the longer I stand here, the more bored I become. Then plastic crushes behind me, and my interest piques again. Is he listening to our conversation? Will it make him try even more to get me to want him back? Will he try harder?

I like it when he tries. Mostly because he normally doesn’t think he has to, and probably doesn’t realize he’s even doing it with me. The man’s barely had to lift as much a finger in his life to get what he wants, and having to do so with me has him at a loss. He’s having to fight a pretty girl for the loser pig boy’s attention and it’s not faring well for him.

“Yeah, I imagine not,” she banters playfully. “It was really good running into you. Hope to hear from you later.”

“See ya,” I say, whipping my head in Blake’s direction as he finally pays for that damn Pepsi he’s been holding on to for far too long. No telling how many dents and cracks it has in it by now. I shoot him a blank stare before exiting the store, those piercing blue eyes following me to my car. I try not to look down at my phone as I wait for what I’m hoping will come next. Right as I’m pulling up in front of my house, a reason for me to make him wait even longer causes my phone to vibrate.

Blake: You seem to be going to a lot of the same places as me today. Maybe it’ll happen tonight too, and I’ll finally get my hi.

Me: I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Smiling, I exit the car, carrying one bag on my wrist. There’s no doubt in my mind I’ll be running into my high‑school bully again, sending him home pouting when he once again doesn’t get the ‘hi’ he has no problem getting from anyone else. None of them will do, though. Not when he wants it from the one person who refuses to bend over backward for him. Not when the only person he needs it from is me.

Six

Blake

“Where are you going?” my sister asks, looking over her laptop.

“Uh . . . out for some air. May stop somewhere for a drink.”

“Going to meet up with what’s his face? You two aren’t back together, are you?”

My brows furrow. “Who?”

“Hayden. The guy’s such a douche canoe. I think he might even be worse now than he was in high school.”

I turn up my nose, brushing her off with my hand. “Definitely not. I’d hardly call him a friend these days. I haven’t even seen him in like a week.”

“That’s good.” Relief sets in her face and her fingers start slamming at her keys. “Being friends with those people never did you any favors.”

“Not so sure being in this family did either,” I bit back, tossing on my jacket.

“Hey, all I’ve ever done was try to be the best sister I could. Do not lump me in with anyone else here.”

Laughing, I lift my eyes up at the ceiling. “Fine. I guess you’re supportive, most of the time.”

“Uh‑huh.” She lets her glasses slide down her nose. “So, who are you going to meet, and don’t say nobody cause you wouldn’t be wearing your favorite jeans if you weren’t.”

I huff a breath, twisting a finger in the front of my hair. “I’m not even sure he’ll be there yet, and if not, then I’ll be doing what I said. Having a drink. I also don’t want to be here when Mom and Dad get back from their little dinner date. You know how they get when they have cocktails together.”

“Oh, I know, and I plan to head out soon myself. We’re doing a study group at the library. You know, a place you should consider visiting sometime.”

I play with my front zipper, rolling my eyes. “People who look like me have better places to be than at some boring‑ass library. I can’t even find the books I like to read there anyway.”

“You mean those smutty ones, with more boning than plot?”

“Maybe.” I grin. “And who the hell says boning anymore?”

“Whatever. I guess reading is reading, and now I have more gift options for your next birthday aside from designer brand clothes or expensive‑ass cologne you’ll wear once.”

I mimic her words with my mouth, checking my phone, and biting on my bottom lip when I see Logan’s response to my last text.

Logan: I wouldn’t hold my breath.

Why his words affect me so much and make me hold my breath for so long, I have no clue. I saw him in that bar and thought he’d be nothing more than someone to have a fun night with—or nights, give or take. Not that I get much from those anymore. The men I’ve hooked up with lately rarely ever care about making me feel good, or care to see me again after getting what they want.