Page 11 of Breakout
“I’m just watching some TV. Want to join me?”
“Nah. Thanks, though.”
He turns and looks at me and raises a brow when he sees I’ve got shoes on and my keys in my hand.
“Where are you going?” Wyatt asks.
Shit. Part of me wants to tell him. If there’s one thing about Wyatt, it’s that he’s good at keeping secrets. I know he wouldn’t tell a soul, but I can’t. I won’t betray Peyton like that. If she wants our friends to know, she will tell me.
Right?
I shake my head. “I’m going out to get something.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up. “What are you going to get?”
“Just some things…”
“Right…”
“Anyway, I’m going to get out of here. I’ll be back later.”
I make it all the way to the door and start to open it when he calls out.
“Beckett.”
“Yeah?” I call over my shoulder without turning around.
“I hope she’s worth it.”
She is.
I don’t bother responding as I shut the door behind me and head for my car. Once inside, I drive to the restaurant on autopilot. The parking lot is already empty as I make my way to the back of the lot where employees park, and I can see the back door.
I shut off my car and sigh.
“I really shouldn’t be here. If she knew, she would kill me,” I say to myself.
Peyton Anderson is the biggest pain in my ass, and for some goddamn reason, I can’t walk away. Anytime we go out, she insists on paying for herself. The look of regret that crosses her face every time she swipes her card kills me. I’ve offered to pay for her time and time again, but her pride stands in the way. The couple of times I’ve managed to pay before she could, she’s given me the silent treatment, which is almost just as painful.
I knew money was one thing, but tonight I learned it’s so much worse than that. She has so much fucking pride she won’t even let me stand up for her and defend her. Hell, I wasn’t the only one who was ready to fight for her honor, but I’m the one she called out. I’m the one who got yelled at like a child who did something wrong.
It’s fucking bullshit.
It stings knowing that she probably wouldn’t have reacted as badly as she did if we weren’t sleeping together. Excuse me, fucking. We don’t sleep. Anytime I start to doze off, Peyton isquick to wake me up and tell me I need to leave before Cora comes back when we stay at the dorms. When we are at my place, she doesn’t even let my dick stop twitching before she’s up and out the door. That’s a whole other topic that I don’t even want to think about.
The back door of the restaurant opens, and I watch as the staff files out. Peyton tosses her head back and laughs at something one of the women she works with says, making me smile.
She’s fucking beautiful.
She breaks away from her coworkers and heads to her car.
“Bye.” She waves before slipping inside.
I can’t hear the word, but I watch her mouth form it. Everything about the woman captivates me. She hates when I stare, but I can’t help it.
I wait for her to pull out before I follow behind her. I keep several car lengths between us as I follow her back to campus. I know it’s wrong to be following her without her knowing, but I can’t help it. For some reason, I need to know that she makes it home safe after working a late shift. When we’re on the road and I know she’s working, it fucking kills me.
What if something were to happen, and I’m not there to save her? She could get a flat tire and need help. Or God forbid someone helps her, she could be hit by a passing motorist and left for dead. Someone could pretend to be a cop and pull her over only to take her.
