Page 48 of Last Love

Ryder


- “I didn’t expect things to be so different between us.” -



Kara leans her thin frame against me and quietly states, “Thanks again for the ride last night, Collins. I swear that’ll be the last time I don’t drive myself to a fucking party.”


Personally?


I think she’s fucking stupid for going to those in the first place.


I get she’s not ready to do the amount of work that I do every…goddamn…day, but she’s phoning in the little she does do.


These meetings?


She uses every opportunity she can to talk to me instead of listening to the messages.


Changing her daily routine?


Should mean more than buying a new box of hair dye or trying some shit you saw on YouTube.


As for what the fuck you do for fun?


It damn sure shouldn’t consist of you surrounding yourself by the very shit that you went to rehab for.


And yeah, the tiny kick to the dick of irony, that I’m back with the one person that I was pulled away from, which began my spiral into addiction isn’t lost on me.


But that’s different.


Plus, we’re different.


There’s a give and take value we were missing back in the day that I’m growing to appreciate.


Do I love when she pays for dates?


Fuck no.


Do I love that she can?


Definitely.


She not only runs her own fucking company and brings in enough zeroes that would make my big brother hard with envy, but she loves what she does.


She has passion.


She has purpose.


She has a whole fucking life outside of me, and it’s incredible.


And fucking hurts.


I mean I don’t need her obsessing over me or anything…I just…I don’t like feeling like I’m in the way at times.


“I so would’ve called an Uber, but they wanted to charge me fifty bucks for that shit,” she gripes too close to my ear.


Luckily for her, due to my girlfriend working so late – again –, she was too tired for me to come by, which meant I had plenty of time to stop binging The Office to go rescue the damsel in the denim beside me.


“And the only reason I even went to that party was my facialist heard from her facialist that Pierce Wyatt was gonna be there.”


The twitched question on my face immediately receives an answer.


“Yeah, that Pierce Wyatt.” She leans closer, although I wish she wouldn’t. “You know he’s on my celebrity bucket bang list.”


I do know that.


I wish I fucking didn’t.


Getting random texts about celebs she’d like to fuck is a weird thing.


Then again, Kara had an impressive ability to use the strange shit to start longer texting chats.


Her left field “I wanna bang Ben Affleck and Matt Damon in a threesome” one she sent two days ago led to me eating my lunch with one hand while arguing via typing with the other one which type was better – having the extra female or having the extra dude. It made lunch fly by. And it helped distract me from the fact my girlfriend didn’t text me once during the timeframe.