Crushed - Pamela Ann Page 0,69
ground out, almost hissing. “Do you know how it felt to be there in that room, planning what to do to you tonight when we’re in bed together, while you declared that you’re single and willing to go on a date? Even Cooper gave me a look because, you see, I thought we were together—well, I thought you’d eventually come around, and I’ve been waiting for you to come back since you left my bed yesterday morning.”
That was messed up. What—why would he even put himself through this when we clearly had discussed what would happen afterwards?
“I’m not ready.” For any of it … for what he was insinuating.
“Then I’ll wait. I already told you I’ll wait, but don’t fuck around with me, Amber. I don’t think I can do it the second time.”
He meant Lindsey. Lindsey had strung him along, but I didn’t do that to him. I had been open about my expectations of our short arrangement.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t. I care enough to tell you that I can’t be with you the way you want me to be.”
Anger came off him in waves before he made a curt, determined nod. “I see,” he uttered harshly before directing one last look at me. Then he spun on his heels and went inside the house, leaving me speechless as I watched him walk away.
There was no way in hell I could go back in the house without attracting Trista’s attention, and to be quite honest, I just couldn’t fathom dealing with any of that at the moment.
I needed to breathe, to think. I desperately needed space away from here, away from him.
Therefore, instead of heading inside, I went back home to fetch my car then went for an aimless drive. I was contemplating where I should go, to the local bar or somewhere out of town to drink my sorrows away, when something caught my attention.
My dashboard beeped, blinking in red, indicating that I needed to refill my tank. Reluctantly, I had to make a detour in search of the local gas station. Once I reached it, I immediately hopped out of the car and went about my way as I contemplated where to go once this was over and done with.
I had just finished swiping my credit card on the gas pump’s machine slot when I heard the unwelcomed voice of Rob behind me. It raised the back of my hair as I ground my teeth together, knowing well enough that I had seconds until he would see me and act as if we were still on good terms.
“I knew those hot legs looked familiar,” he drawled in such a sickeningly sweet way that I seriously growled in irritation.
Fuck. I was wearing a skirt, and that fucktard was hitting on me.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck!
I was so mad, so pissed off that I chose to ignore him. I was so tense, so sick to my stomach to be breathing the same air as he was, standing a few inches away as he accelerated his steps towards me.
“Hey, sweets!” he tried again, but this time, I decided to face him full-on.
Maybe it was the pent up anger or the way he had treated me the day after—so vile, spouting shit as he tried to make it look like I was “begging” for it, but I was just done with him. As a result, when he got up close and personal, my twitchy hand fiercely connected with his sweaty cheek, and then my knee swiftly lunged for his gross dick. I’d had no clue I had the physical capacity to do that, yet I did. Call it adrenaline or whatever, but I was pulsing with it and maybe a little bit of triumph as I saw how much the impact caused him pain.
“Come near me again and I will call the cops on you for date rape,” I threatened then heard him mutter some incoherent stuff about his swollen, bruised dick.
Blue, purple balls was the least he deserved, but he should know I wasn’t to be fucked with, not anymore.
Not caring about the gas any longer, I got in my car and drove off.
After my encounter with Rob, I wasn’t sure what I was anymore.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I knew I needed to see him. My mind persisted after thirty minutes of sitting in utter silence the second I parked my car somewhere in between the route from my house to the gas station.
Regardless, I knew I couldn’t go back to the party looking like a