The Princess and The Jester - A.D. McCammon Page 0,20

day?

I huff, flipping off the screen before responding.

Great!

Oh yeah? So that’s why you

ghosted me all day?

Ghosted him? Seriously? He spent the entire day with Violet the saint. Fuck him.

Dramatic much?

Seems to me you were pretty

preoccupied all day anyway.

LMFAO

Yeah, you’re right.

I spent my day doing something

I love with someone I care about.

Blood boils in my veins, tears pooling in my eyes, and I fight the urge to toss my phone at the wall.

I’m happy for you.

Maybe you should be messaging

her right now instead of me.

Violet was pretty worn out by the

time she left here. She’s probably

asleep now.

I press my lips together to keep my furious screech muffled and kick one of the bags on the floor, sending it flying across the room as my thumbs feverously tap in my reply.

What a fucking honor to be your

consolation prize.

Wow. Did you ever think maybe

I just wanted to talk to you?

Maybe I don’t feel the same way.

Are you trying to say you don’t want

to talk to me? That really hurts.

I’m sure you’ll survive.

There are a lot of things I can endure in

life. Not being able to talk to you isn’t

one of them.

OMFG!

You’re so full of crap right now.

I bet even your eyes are brown.

Sitting on the bench at the end of my bed, I slip off my shoes and smirk as those blinking dots appear. But my face falls with the drop of my stomach when a picture of Cole pops up. He’s lying in bed; the guitar pick he wears around his neck draped across his bare chest. His sandy hair is sticking up in a wave, as if he just ran his hand through it, the tiny stud in his ear sparkling.

There’s not even a hint of a smile on his lips, his tired stare indifferent. This is the first time I’ve noticed how much the growing stubble on his face has matured him. It’s incredibly hot and completely unfair.

Nope. Still green.

I don’t say shit I don’t mean.

Oh, please.

How can I take you seriously?

You spent the day with another girl!

What do you think she would say if she

found out you’ve been messaging me?

Who says I haven’t already told

her about you? Maybe you should

ask me what you really want to know.

What is it you think I want to know?

If I’m hooking up with Violet.

Well, you’re wrong.

Who you sleep with or don’t is none

of my business. I meant what I said

earlier. I’m putting an end to this.

Nah, you’re not going anywhere.

Want to know how I know?

Sure. Please enlighten me.

Because you’re as addicted to me

as I am to you.

There’s a cracking pain in my chest, and laughter bubbles out of me. Not the haha that’s funny kind. It’s hysterical. The type where you’re not a hundred percent certain what you’re feeling.

This must be what going crazy is like.

Letting him go won’t be easy. It’s been nice getting to talk to him again, the real Cole. But this is insanity. I never should’ve messaged him in the first place. It was stupid of me to ever believe this would end well. I’ve got to walk away. Before he realizes I’m the girl behind the screenname. The longer I drag this out, the harder it will be.

Goodbye, Cole.

Until tomorrow, PG.

Chapter Ten

Present

COLE

The bedroom door flies open, and Gwen storms inside. Just as expected. I don’t react, purposely keeping my eyes focused on the screen in front of me for several seconds before looking up. My dick stirs as my eyes slowly devour her. She’s wearing a thin gray tank with a black lace neckline that V’s into the valley of her breasts, and the matching sleep shorts barely cover more than a pair of panties.

She clears her throat, and I calmly fold my laptop then place it beside me. The shredded pieces of the Westbrook Wolverines T-shirt are in her arms, a furious scowl etched onto her face. It took her longer than expected to find the gift I left. Though, she was slightly preoccupied pretending to be someone else.

“What the fuck is this shit?” Her trembling hands drop the tatters on the end of my bed, her chest heaving with fury.

The fire burning in her only turns me on more, any resolve to keep my distance melting from the heat of it. I want to touch her, to taste her. Fuck winning if it means depriving myself of ever being inside her again.

My movements are slow as I get up, my steps unthreatening as I make my way to the door, keeping her unaware of my intentions