ChapterThirty-Nine
SUNDAY
Istared down at my phone, pacing back and forth across my room, frustration mounting with every passing moment. He hadn’t answered any of my messages. Was Kingston still sleeping? He shouldn’t be sleeping this much, should he?
Me: How are you feeling?
Me: Are you awake?
Me: I need to see you. Please let me know when you feel up to a visit.
Me: Kingston.
Nothing except that little notification under my messages that said,read.
Me: If you’re going to leave me on read, you should just turn off your fucking phone.
Three little dots appeared, dancing on my screen and telling me he was typing. And my stupid heart did a somersault. Well, at least that one seemed to have gotten his attention.
Good. I wasn’t going to sit around playing these games with a grown-ass man. One fragile male ego was more than I could handle in a day, and after Caleb’s nonsense, the last thing I needed was Kingston backsliding into old patterns.
Especially when I hadn’t done anything to deserve it.
King: I don’t know what to say to you.
Me: What the hell is that supposed to mean?
King: I just don’t want to see you right now.
Me: What? WHY?
King: Because this whole thing is your fault, and the longer I sit here stuck in this fucking bed, the more pissed I am about it.
Me: I don’t understand.
King: You’re a liability, Sunshine. I don’t think right when you’re in my head, taking up space. It damn near got me killed.
A knife to the chest would’ve been less painful. He couldn’t have known it, but he’d just thrown my grandfather’s words back at me. He’d softened the blow some, but not by much. And it fuckinghurtcoming from him.
Me: I’m sorry. I’ve been trying to give you alone time so you can rest and heal. I’m just worried about you. I needed to know you were okay.
King: Panic texting me four times in a row sure looks like it. It’s fucking desperate. You aren’t getting enough attention from your other fuckboys?
Me: EXCUSE ME.
King: You read that right.
Me: What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you fall down and hit your head or something? What’s this bullshit really about, Kingston?
King: I’m done. I never wanted to share you in the first place. Do me a favor, stop hanging around outside my door like a bitch in heat. We already handled that. I don’t want to see you anymore. You have plenty of other willing dicks you can use.
My heart cracked open. First Caleb, now Kingston. My throat tightened, angry tears clawing their way up, trying to break free.
This was such bullshit.
Me: Stop it. You don’t mean that.
King: I think I know what I feel better than you.