Page 15 of Pick Me

I jiggled the handle, confirming what I already knew. He’d locked me out. I slapped the door, banging so loud I knew he could hear it.

“Jackson! You locked me out,” I yelled at the door, barely able to hear myself with how hard my palms were hitting the wood. When my arms started hurting, I stopped, then heard Jackson’s low, hearty chuckle behind it.

He loved this.

“Jackson. I’m outside,” I whispered.

“I know, Pyro.” Although his voice was muffled, I heard it loud and clear.

Brows furrowed, I glared at the wood, hoping my anger would seep through it.

“Then let me in.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll let you in at ten thirty. That was the deal. It’s my night, so you’ll just have to suck it up until I’m ready to open the door.”

I choked on a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t be serious?”

“I’m as serious as I am about practicing safe sex.”

I visibly cringed at the thought of Jackson having sex. Why did I feel like there would be a lot of grunting going on and not a lot of pleasure?

“Is that why you’re practicing the safest form of sex? Celibacy.”

“Do you really think mocking my sex life will do you any favors in this situation?”

I rested my forehead against the door. “This isn’t funny anymore. Let me in.”

“Like I said, Pyro. The door will be unlocked in three hours. Until then, find someone else to annoy.”

“Three hours?” Jackson walked away—he was such a heavy-footed jackass—and my blood pressure spiked. He was really going to leave me out here.

“Jackson. No. I’m in my pj’s! I don’t even have my phone!” I slammed my fists against the door, knocking incessantly.

“Should have thought about that before you broke your own rules.” I could barely hear him, but it was enough to make my blood boil. I’d get back at him.

“Jackson!” I screamed, slamming my hand against the door faster. I only hit my palm across the wood for a few more minutes before the pain started to radiate down my arm.

He wasn’t coming, and the minute he got the headset on, I was almost certain he’d forget about me.

Out here and alone.

I rested my back against the door before sliding down it and landing on my butt. The apartment block was secure, so I didn’t have to worry about anyone coming in I didn’t know, but I had nothing to do.

Except maybe count the water stains so I could tell the maintenance man about them later.

Well, shit.

Jackson had screwed me over and it was my fault.

***

It’d been eighty-four years… Okay, that was an exaggeration. I had no idea how long I’d been out here, but I was cold, which was an amazing feat, considering I was in a fluffy onesie. Sitting with my back against the door and my head in my hands, I’d given up a long time ago trying to get Jackson to notice me out here. Apparently, that stupid headset could cancel out any noise.

Including my beautiful rendition of Bailey Hill’s latest hit.

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