Eligible Receiver (Men of Fall #3)- S.R. Grey Page 0,43

why I’m so cautious, though I sure slipped up with Lars.

I should’ve never put so much trust in him.

Another sage piece of advice passed down was to not allow myself to be walked all over.

It feels like Lars just did that.

Even if he didn’t cheat—and really, how can I ever know for sure?—he let that nasty bimbo use his phone.

Okay, maybe he didn’t actually give her consent. I realize that. But the fact she was able to access his cell long enough to take selfies and to send a rude message to me speaks volumes. I’ve told him a hundred times he should enable auto-lock on his phone.

In any case, Lars had to have been hanging with the girl.

I sigh as I roll to my side.

Yeah, I’m still in bed.

I don’t need to be at work till noon since I stayed late yesterday with Skye.

I stare over at my phone on the bedside table, pondering what to do.

What should be my next move?

I don’t know if I ever want to turn the phone back on.

I’d like to at least keep it turned off for a few days.

But that’s not possible.

I need it for business.

“Crap.” I sit up, bunching the covers around me as I reach over and grab the phone from the nightstand.

I power it on, rolling my eyes as soon as it springs to life.

Just as I suspected, there are numerous missed calls from Lars.

He even left a voice mail.

“Oh, lucky me,” I grumble sarcastically.

I decide to listen to what he has to say, so I place the phone on speaker.

“Hey, it’s me. I saw what happened with my phone. Those selfies and that message, you know? Shit, of course you know. Anyway, it sounds lame, but the girl who sent that crap hijacked my phone while I was in the bathroom. Nothing happened, Becca, I swear. I just went out with the guys like I told you I was planning to do. She was just some girl that sat down at our table. I talked to her briefly, and that was it. Please call me back. We need to talk. I love—”

He’s cut off, having run out of time.

I blow out a breath as I tap the phone to my chin, thinking.

So the girl did take his phone.

But he somehow made that possible. He must’ve been talking with the girl if she was at their table.

How’d she know I was his girlfriend?

He either told her, or she had time to check out his texts.

It wouldn’t have been hard to figure it out.

If Lars left his phone on the table when he went to the bathroom, that bimbo must have been sitting right next to him.

He did say he talked to her.

About what?

And what were they doing?

Flirting?

Thinking about hooking up?

I recall how Lars was no angel when I made a move on him at the theatre. He was more than ready to roll.

We haven’t discussed specifics of his past all that much, but I know he’s had some wild times.

Placing the phone back on the bedside table, I decide not to call him back.

Nor will I send him a text.

There’s no point.

My mind is made up.

He’s not getting away with making me look like a fool, damn it!

I tell myself Lars is probably going to leave town soon anyway.

Why drag it out?

But then a sob escapes me. “I just don’t know what to do.”

I’m torn.

Despite my better judgment, I listen to the message from him once more. Really it’s just to hear his voice, and to drive the knife through my heart a little further.

I don’t doubt that he loves me, but I can’t live like this.

It’s clear that if Lars is traded, our relationship will never work.

I’d always be questioning what he’s up to.

So yeah, no, my text to him last night stands.

We are over.

Backing Off

I’m up half the night, waiting to hear from Becca.

We have to straighten this out.

Finally, when my phone remains silent, I fall asleep.

Morning comes, and the first thing I do is check it again.

“Fuck.”

There’s still no word from her.

Tired as hell, I somehow make it to practice on time.

I check my phone constantly as I suit up.

Still nothing.

I really think Becca might be done with me.

Tossing my phone into my temporary locker, I focus on football, going through the motions, running my routes, trying to shine for the Sharks.

But my heart isn’t in it.

It hurts too much.

After practice, I leave Becca a few more voice mails, some texts too.

She ignores them all.

I almost