“Thanks, man. I owe ya one. Let me know when you want Lennon and me to give you some privacy, and I’ll make sure it happens.”
I nod. “I might take you up on that soon.”
I wake up and immediately head to the gym. When I get back home, Lennon is standing in the kitchen in the tiniest jean cutoffs cooking her and Brandon a late lunch. She might as well be bottomless the way they show off her ass cheeks. Her slender legs go for days, and they’re distracting as fuck. It’s annoying how she flaunts herself around here as if I don’t exist.
Last night, I stayed awake staring at the ceiling wondering what I could do today to stay out of the apartment for their stupid special Valentine’s date. Just as Brandon said, Lennon came home right at ten. I heard her muffled voice on the other side of the wall, and I wished she’d just go away. Out of sight, out of mind, right? I know us living together isn’t forever, so I’ll deal with her for now even if it slowly kills me.
Eventually, they’ll move out, or I will, and we’ll go our separate ways. Maybe then, I’ll actually be able to get over it without having to see her or smell the sweetness of her skin. All I want right now is for her to hate me; to hate me so much she won’t look in my direction or talk to me. By what Brandon said last night, I think I’m on the right path. After eight months of pushing her to the limit, she’s still so goddamn relentless it’s exhausting, but eventually, she’ll crack.
I don’t give her another glance as I walk down the small hallway leading to my bedroom. Before I take a shower, I text Liam and Mason and ask them if they want to meet up at the bar.
Every Valentine’s Day is “singles night,” and it’ll be the perfect distraction. I’m going to try to walk into the place with an open mind, and whatever happens, happens.
After my shower, I see they both texted me back, and we decide to meet up at five to pre-game. I’ll more than likely make myself disappear sooner because I don’t want to get in the way of whatever the hell Brandon has planned.
I go to my room with a towel wrapped around my waist, and Lennon stops walking toward the bedroom when she sees me. I notice the way her eyes linger on my body and trail across my tattoos and abs, just as they did that night at the bar, but the fantasy vanishes as soon as she rolls her eyes at me. Perfect. Glad I can get that kind of reaction from her. Makes being around and living with her that much easier.
I shut my bedroom door and change into some jeans and a nice shirt. When I walk into the hallway, I can hear Lennon and Brandon laughing in the living room. Instinctively, I groan.
“I’m heading out,” I tell them, grabbing my keys and not looking in their direction.
“Got a hot date tonight?” Brandon asks. He sounds somewhat hopeful, considering I haven’t dated anyone in years. At least not anything serious.
I nod with a grin and feel Lennon’s eyes boring into me, but I don’t give her any attention.
“Don’t wait up for me,” I tell him with a forced laugh as I walk out of the apartment and head toward my truck. The downtown bar sits in a heavily trafficked area on a strip surrounded by restaurants and nightclubs. Considering it’s a Saturday and a fake holiday, I decide to drive over early and look for parking. It’s usually a clusterfuck, and tonight will be worse than usual.
I park on the street a few blocks away and walk to the sports bar where I’m meeting Liam and Mason in a couple of hours. I’ll have to pace myself even though all I want to do is lose control. Instead of texting the guys and letting them know I’m here, I go inside and sit at the bar. Since I didn’t eat earlier, I order food and a beer. Bernie, the bartender on duty, has been working here for as long as I can remember.
“Can’t believe you’re here alone on this special holiday,” he says, his sarcasm not lost as he wipes down the countertop. He’s in his mid-thirties and is as single as I am. When I worked at the club a few buildings down, I’d often come over here and hang out before my shifts.
I let out a small laugh. “Surprised you’re surprised, honestly.”
“With a track record like yours, though?” He smirks.
I roll my eyes, wanting to change the subject. “Can I get another beer?”
Bernie pops the top of the bottle and slides it across the bar. He picks up my empty plate and carries it to the back. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and when I grab it, I see a text from Liam.