Page 214 of Scrimmage

He grins like a fucking idiot.

“What?” I ask, exasperated.

“You’re eye level with my dick,” he chuckles.

“Fucking hell,” I groan. “Did a wheel chair blow job unlock a new kink for you? He bites his lip, but stays silent. “Get me out of here, asshole.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He wheels me out of the hospital, and while I glare at every bitch who is drooling at his presence, he completely ignores them, growling at people to get the fuck out of our way. It’s fucking embarrassing for everyone to see me this vulnerable. When Koda helps me up at the entrance, I lean on him while I kick the stupid wheel chair. No fucking more of that ever again. Next time, I’ll drag myself across the floor like a zombie before being put in one of those. He opens the door to a car I don’t recognize. It’s sleek, not that sports car shit he gave to me.

“Is this Sinclair’s rental?” I ask with confusion. This isn’t the sort of thing he would ever drive. Not reckless enough.

“I was worried you’d end up driving into a building.”

“So you bought a new car?”

“Told you I would.” He shrugs, closing the door in my face before I can ask more questions.

The windows are so dark that they could be considered blacked out. The interior is leather and smells brand new. He said he would do this, but I thought it was just metaphorical. He gets in, puts on my playlist, and starts to drive. That’s the moment it hits me. I don’t know where Penny and I live anymore. There is no way we would be going back to that house, and we never talked about it.

“Where are we going?” I ask when we pass the turn off to his condo.

He ignores me, so I fold my arms and lay my head against the window, watching the buildings turn into trees. Trees. I sit up analyzing the surroundings. We’re still on the river. It’s not far off campus, but enough that I can’t just walk to class. Koda turns into a driveway of a decent sized house. Not a kind I’ve ever lived in.

“Where are we?”

Once again he gives me the silent treatment, pushing a button, and the garage door starts to open. He pulls in and shuts the car off. The mechanical whirring of the garage door shutting is like an omen. I watch him walk around the car until he’s standing at my door and opening it.

“Unbuckle,” he says.

“No,” I state.

“Fucking humor me, Ashland. You can bitch at me the entire time.”

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” I cross my arms. He rolls his eyes with a sigh and reaches over, grabs the top of the seatbelt, and literally rips it out of the brand new door frame with force. Then he picks me up and starts carrying me like a firefighter up a set of stairs.

“I fucking hate you.” I try to fight him.

“Good. Hold onto that, because I only get worse.”

I give up around the halfway point, and with the way he is acting, I’m surprised when he sets me on a massive couch.

I look around at the place. “Are you fucking pet sitting or something?” I tease him angrily. He ignores me, typing away on his phone.

“Did you hear me?” I demand.

“Yup,” he says again, heading over to the marble counter.

Obviously, I’m not going to get an answer from him, so I survey my surroundings. The ceiling is high. Stairs to my left lead up to an indoor balcony. A set of glass paneled doors to my right open up onto a patio that looks like it’s meant for a billionaire. I catch a glimpse of the river through the railing, and I can hear it calmly rushing. The place is stark white with mostly gray furniture. It looks like a Better Homes & Gardens in here.

I realize he asked me a question. “What?”

“I asked you if you like Penny’s mattress.” He still doesn’t look up.

“What kind of weird question is that?”

“Ashland,” he growls in warning. “Do you two like her mattress or not?”

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