Nada.
I reached out and texted Alyssa a few times, but it’s been stereo silence from her end, which isn’t a total surprise. Nothing I do seems to make a difference. If anything, my actions have only pushed her further away. At this point, I have no idea how to bridge the gap that now separates us.
It’s been more than a week since she stomped over, and we had sex. I find myself hanging around the apartment building, trying to catch sight of her, but she remains elusive. Almost as if she’s trying to evade me.
Actually, that’s exactly the tactic she’s employing.
That girl wants nothing to do with me, and there doesn’t seem to be a damn thing I can do to change that. I hate to admit it, but I’m teetering on the verge of giving up. There are times in life when you fuck up and are able to fix the mess. This isn’t one of them.
My head is full of Alyssa as I walk across campus on my way to my last class of the day. It’s a business course and boring as hell. Although I suspect that has more to do with the professor than the material. He’s a middle-aged dude with a monotone voice. No matter how many energy drinks I guzzle, it’s never enough to keep me from dozing off.
As I pass by Grinders R Us, the local coffee house on campus, a flash of long, blond hair catches the corner of my eye, and my head whips in that direction. My footsteps falter as I spot Alyssa sitting at a table inside. Her lips lift into a smile as she tucks a stray lock of hair behind her ear. A bolt of electricity surges through me as my attention zeros in on her, eclipsing everything around me. I wrack my brain, trying to remember the last time she looked at me like that.
It was more than a year and a half ago. Before I blew our relationship to hell. Back then, there were times when I would catch her staring at me like I was a fucking god. I loved it. Craved it. Reveled in it. In the end, I took her feelings for granted, thinking it would always be that way. Turns out that’s not the case.
I don’t realize I’ve sidled up to the picture window until my nose hits the glass.
“Fuck,” I mumble, rubbing the tip with my fingers and taking a hasty step in retreat.
Is this really what it’s come to?
Me stalking some girl in the middle of campus in broad daylight?
Don’t answer that.
No one has ever twisted me up inside like this. Every instinct is screaming at me to go inside and claim my girl. But how can I do that when it’s become increasingly clear that Alyssa wants nothing to do with me? The mature thing to do would be to respect her wishes and move on. As I force myself to take a reluctant step away from the window, a burst of laughter escapes from her lips as a large hand reaches across the table before settling on hers.
What the hell?
And then I’m right back where I started, pressed against the glass. Only now do I realize that she’s not alone. There’s a guy parked across from her. All thoughts of backing off and giving Alyssa her space evaporate as I hightail it into the coffee shop and stomp over to where the happy couple is lounging. Even the thought of another guy touching her is enough to set me off.
You know what scares me most?
That she actually might move on without giving me another shot.
As soon as I pull up alongside the table, Alyssa glances at me. The smile falls from her face as her eyes widen. “Colton.”
“Hey.” My narrowed gaze slices to the guy across from her.
A heavy silence blankets the three of us, turning the atmosphere oppressive.
Alyssa shifts on her chair before clearing her throat. “Levi, this is Colton.”
Levi?
What the hell kind of name is that?
Unaffected by the way I glower, the dark-haired guy sits back in his chair as a relaxed smile lifts the corners of his lips. “Oh, hey. You’re Colton Montgomery. Nice to meet you, man.”
“Yeah,” I mumble, even though I don’t mean it, “same.”
“The Wildcats are having a great season.” He chuckles, “I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I have a lot of money riding on you guys winning a conference championship.”
“Is that so?” I grunt in response, tempted to tank the season just so this guy loses money.
Fuck him.
Of course, that’s not going to happen. I’m still playing like shit, so my ass hasn’t seen very much of the field lately. Kwiatkowski, on the other hand, is living his best life. I shove that thought from my head, not wanting to dwell on it. I’ve got more pressing matters to contend with.