Page 30 of Elusive

Chapter 9

Sutton

I walk her to the door, waiting ‘til she’s safely inside before climbing back in my truck and driving away… only to shift into reverse and roll back, jumping out and running up to check that the door’s locked. It is. Atta girl.

Having that confirmed, I stay headed for home on my second attempt, trying to keep my inner reflections during the drive below feminine proportions… since I do have a dick and all. It’s just… Presley… damn that woman does things to me like no one ever has before. And I somehow know, never could again.

I’m not an “insta” kinda guy. Up until hanging out with her that first time, I was what some might call… accessible. And I’m far from in love with her, but I love being around her. I love the uncontrollable desire that consumes me when she sheds her armor, lets herself enjoy time with me, and the effortlessness of enjoying time with her. I even love the spark of impassioned craze when we argue — her sassy mouth setting my “fight to fuck” instincts to firing on all pistons. It also doesn’t hurt a damn thing that she’s flaming fuckin’ hot, beautiful, inside and out… and amazing, in bed.

May not love her, yet, but I want her more than I ever have anything else in my life. And Lil’ Miss Fancy Face can concoct up all the ridiculous excuses or plans to date, she wants — they’re not fucking happening.

“Call JT,” I direct my Bluetooth, and just as I’m parking in front of my apartment, he answers.

“Somebody better be in jail or the ER,” he yells.

“Really?”

“Fuck,” he’s awake now, having just realized what a fucked-up statement that was, considering I drove his cousin home. “No, not really! What’s wrong? Where’s Presley?”

“Oh my God, what is it?” Bellamy’s on-the-brink-of-tears hits my ears.

“Jesus Christ, Kendrick, you’re a fucking train wreck. Nothing’s wrong with anyone and Presley’s safe at home. Calm your woman down, I’ll wait.”

I chill, in silence, while he kisses Bellamy’s ass… laughing while she chews his.

“Okay, I’m back,” he says in the pout of a just-reprimanded child. “Why are you calling so late?”

I check the clock on my dash and roll my eyes. “It’s not even time for “last call,” Grandpa.”

“You ever gotten a good look at my girlfriend? Spend as much time in bed with her as she’ll let me. And I’d like to get back to it, so again, why are you calling?”

I take the call off Bluetooth and get out, walking to my door as I explain. “Pres is still set on that datingbullshit of hers.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And, no. Hell to the fuck no.”

“Not sure that’s your call, bro. You tried, helluva effort, and I was rootin’ for ya, but it’s time to give up. I’ve told you over and over how she is about relationships, or total lackthereof. Honestly, kinda sick of saying it. Real sick of watching you two make each other miserable. Presley’s, well, I’m not sure what exactly, or why, but, she’s got some obvious hang-ups, phobias, whatever you wanna call ‘em.”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I groan, seriously considering taking off in a dead sprint in the other direction. No shit — it’s that bad.

“Not kidding at all. She’s-”

“No,” I interrupt him. “Just walked up to the apartment. Hailey’s here.”

He busts out laughing, “Oh, shit. Dude, sorry, but that’s so damn creepy it’s funny. Is she like sitting in front of the door, rocking back and forth, talking to herself?”

“No, she had a key made behind my back, remember? Haven’t had a chance to get the locks changed yet, so… she’s inside, peeking at me through those ugly-ass curtains she put up.”

“The creepy’s coming from inside the house?” He does a terrible “horror movie” voiceover. “Not good. I think that means you’re gonna die in seven days.”

“Two different movies, dick. But your support’s touching, really.”

“Wait, how’d she know you’d be walking up right now?”

“Well, option A, she’s been staking out the fucking window, just waiting, or B, she drugged me and shoved a tracking device up my ass while I was out cold. At this point, no idea which to bet on.”

“Yeah, that’s just… I don’t even know what that is.”

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