Page 36 of Never His Girl

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Page 36 of Never His Girl

Shaking my head, I feel frustration with having made zero progress.

“Not a word,” I confess. “She’s either cursing under her breath about me crowding her, or pretending I’m not there.”

“Well, I say keep going. She has to see you’re trying. Has to see you’re making an ass of yourself for her,” Joss adds, before whispering, “Whoops. Didn’t mean to say that part out loud.”

My jaw tenses and, for a split second, I consider my reputation. Consider the guy people expect me to be, the standard they expect me to uphold. But then I remember where all that got me.

“Whatever you do, just… don’t let someotherbastard slip in under your nose,” Dane warns, sounding bitter as hell as he stabs a meatball with his fork.

I hold in a laugh, knowing he’s not talking aboutmysituation anymore. Joss seems none-the-wiser that he’s butt-hurt about there still being no explanation as to why her new friend in Cuba is suddenly marking his territory.

“I say stay the course and play the long game,” Sterling adds. “She’s got good reason to be pissed. Let her be. Then, once she’s tired of being angry, she’ll see the effort you’re putting in and maybe that’s when you’ll get to say what you gotta say.”

I don’t mention it out loud, but that sounds like a long-ass time from now.

But it’s all about turning over a new leaf, right? Being patient and shit.

“I’m not changing the plan anytime soon, so I guess we’ll see where this leads,” is my final thought on it.

Either Southside gets the hint—that my apology is real and I think we need to see where things lead with us—or I’ll be labeled the loser who lost the girl before he ever really had her.

Whatever the case, I’m knee-deep in this now and there’s no turning back.

* * *

Blue

“Shit!” I gasp.

Jules and I both jump when our phones blare with an alarm at the exact same time. We glance down at our screens, reading the AMBER alert that’s just come through. The second this week.

Another missing southside girl.

I scan the details for whatever info stands out—she was sixteen this time, last seen leaving the liquor store over on Murphy.

“That’s not too far from the diner,” I say distractedly, counting the number of blocks between there and Uncle Dusty’s.

Only three, which is a little unnerving to say the least.

“Probably just ran off with her boyfriend or something. She’ll turn up in a week or two, when they run out of food and condoms,” Jules answers with a smirk.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“Anyway, back to the West situation. He just walks with you? Never actually says anything?”

I set my phone aside before nodding. “Yep, we just walk, and it’s weird as hell,” I answer. “Andannoyingas hell.”

“And maybe… kind of sweet? Maybe?” Jules adds sheepishly.

When I shoot her a death glare, her expression goes blank. “Please.”

“I mean, I know what he did was the dick-move of all dick-moves, but maybe he’s genuinely sorry. Or maybe there’s more to the story than meets the eye? But that’s something you won’t know until you hear him out.”

I stretch out on my bed beside her, facing the twinkling lights above. This had been her advice lately, to actually let West speak. You know, instead of cutting him off before he even gets started, which has been my only approach to conversation when it comes to him.

“You’re only saying that because you haven’t lived through what I’ve lived through with him,” I explain with a sigh. “West is dark, he’s manipulative, capable of anything. He got me to let my guard down, and then made me pay for it.”

She turns to the side and rests her head on her fist. Her stare lands on me before speaking. “Run me through it again,” she says. “You showed up at his room and that Parker bitch was in his bed naked, right?”




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