Exhausted, I hobbled around to the driver’s side, climbed up, and buckled in. I was about to turn the key when something white caught my eye. I frowned. Something was stuck under my windshield wiper.

My quads almost buckled as I got back out of my Jeep. Groaning, I snatched the paper and reentered the car with as few movements as possible.

I stared at the paper in my palm in confusion. It was shaped like an airplane. What the hell?

I unfolded it carefully. It was made from cheap, lined notebook paper, one side ragged, like it had been torn from a spiral-bound notebook. Turning it so it was right side up, I read the message written in bold, black Sharpie. Playing hard to get? It’s working. Quit playing games and call me. West. His phone number was scrawled after his name.

I snorted and wadded up the paper in my fist. Arrogant bastard didn’t like being ignored? Well, I didn’t like being lied to.

I started to toss the paper into my Krispy Kreme bag when I hesitated. I’d let the situation with Asshole get the better of me and run me off, and I didn’t want to be that same pathetic girl anymore. I wanted to be a strong, take-no-prisoners woman who stood her ground. Time to call West out on his shit. Then we’d see what he had to say for himself.

Smoothing out the paper as best I could, I added West’s number to my phone and then sent him a text.

Me: I just left your girlfriend’s house.

I smirked at my phone. Yeah, West, what do you have to say about that?

West: What girlfriend?

My eyebrows lifted. Was he really going to try to play dumb with me?

Me: Aubrey.

West: Aubrey’s not my girlfriend.

Me: She thinks she is.

West: She is most DEFINITELY not.

I hesitated, thrown off by his continued denial. Maybe it was semantics.

Me: Did she used to be?

There was a definite pause before he answered this time.

West: No. Last I heard, she was with some NFL player.

Me: Have you hooked up with her though?

West: Yeah, but not in a long time.

His quick response surprised me. I’d expected him to deny it, since he’d denied their relationship.

West: You were better.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop my smug smile or the feeling of victory those three little words gave me. The catty side of me bitch-slapped Aubrey with that juicy tidbit and then rubbed it in her face for good measure.

West: Meet me tonight.

I wavered. Could I have the situation all wrong? I mean, Aubrey had seemed pretty genuine yesterday, but my gut didn’t trust her motives. Maybe West was being honest, and Aubrey was a lying skank. I preferred that scenario. It meant another serving of West in my future, and God knew, I had an appetite for that man. My resolve began to evaporate like raindrops on a hot sidewalk, disappearing like it had never been there to begin with. The truth was, I wanted to see him again.

My mind screamed a warning at me to slow down and think this through, but my body hollered at me to give in and enjoy the feast. I had to buy myself some time, regain my equilibrium.

Me: I can’t. Girl’s night.

West: Fine. Tomorrow. 7 @ the Wreck. K?

Me: I don’t know.

Yeah, so I admit, I wanted to meet him. I just wasn’t sure I should. I needed a day to try and figure out what the hell was really going on with those two and then I could confront him in person if it came to that.

Not wanting to be a liar myself, I quickly texted Rue.

Me: Dinner tonight? Girl talk?

Rue: Can’t. Business dinner. After?

Me: Sure. Ice cream and doughnuts?

Rue: Absolutely!

 * * *

Later than night, while waiting for Rue to get home, I watched bad reality TV, which seemed to reinforce the likelihood that West was a dirtbag who only thought with his dick and that I was probably being played, along with Aubrey, and whoever he’d done at the hotel the night he gave me a ride home. My anger was rising when my phone buzzed.