Page 39 of Ruled Out
While I’m on cloud nine, I would be lying if I said a small part of me wasn't worried about him pushing me away again. At least I have the comfort of knowing he promised we would talk. Knox may have his flaws, but he seems loyal. After he gets out of his meeting, he’ll reach out, and we’ll talk.He promised.
I’m grinning from ear to ear when I finally walk into my apartment. After turning the lock, my back hits the door and I stare off into space, replaying everything that happened in the past twelve hours. Thankfully, Maisie must still be asleep, or she would totally catch on to my swooning. I can’t hide the love-stricken expression written all over my face.
Love? Pull yourself together, Phoebe.
Pulling myself out of my trance, I take a quick shower and change into a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. I tie my hair up in a messy bun and take a couple ibuprofen to help with my headache. Relieved to finally be out of my black dress and no longer reeking of alcohol and puke, I walk into the kitchen and make myself a glass of iced coffee. Taking a seat at the dining table, I ball my knees up to my chest and take my first sip of the day. Grabbing my phone off the table, I decide to send Knox a quick text. I know he won’t see it right away, but he’ll read it later. I already miss him so much, and it hasn't even been an hour.
Me: Thank you again for everything. Already missing you. Let me know when you have time to talk later. I hope your meeting goes well. Can’t wait to see you again. - Bee :)
I smile to myself, ending the text with my new nickname and a smiley face. For hours, I can’t focus on anything but his response.
A response that never comes.
SEVENTEEN
PHOEBE
“Oh, that is stunning!” my mom hums from across the table.
We’re seated at a table with my teammate, Sasha, and her family. Sasha’s parents just moved into a new, multi-million-dollar home, and her mom is currently showing mine pictures of their kitchen. I take a sip of water and discreetly roll my eyes at my mother’s superficial comments.
The only reason my parents showed up to CCU’s family weekend is because there’s a social event tonight. The athletic department hosts a banquet every year, and it’s considered extremely exclusive. They may not show up to my games, but they sure as hell won’t miss an opportunity to mingle with the powerful and wealthy.
The dinner is being held in a conference room at Island Grand, the nicest hotel in Coral Cove. It has its own private beach access, giving guests the luxury of walking from their hotel room right on to the white sands of Florida. The room is dimly lit by candles and chandeliers, cascading everything in a golden glow. Everyone is dressed to the nines, including me. This may not be how I wanted to spend my Saturday night, but I do love to dress up every once and a while.
I chose a floor length, metallic gold dress that glitters when the candlelight hits it just right. My whole back is exposed, the dress held up by thin straps. The front dips in a narrow V between my breasts, showing just enough cleavage. I’m wearing my sexiest pair of black heels that peak through a tapered slit, revealing a sliver of my smooth legs. My hair tumbles in big curls down my back, accentuated with a bold, red lip and more blush than usual. I feel like a princess. It’s all earned me a few heated glances tonight, but not from the right person.
I knew I was going to see a certain man tonight, and I would be lying if I said I didn't put extra effort into my appearance for him. I planned to bring him to his knees, make him beg like a dog. I want to walk the fuck away, leave him alone on the floor, desperate and broken. I want to make a fool out of him like he did to me. I want him to know what it feels like to be let down by the one person who makes you feel.
Two weeks. It’s been two weeks since Knox woke me up with flowers and donuts, wishing me a happy birthday with his tongue. Two weeks since he dropped me off at my apartment and hasn't spoken a single word to me since. He doesn't even speak to me at practice anymore; he just has the assistant coaches work with me. I’ve tried texting and calling. Hell, I’ve even showed up to his office a few times but he’s never there. He’s been getting to practice right on time, as if to avoid the chance of seeing me.
He completely ghosted me. At first, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest, but now, I’m just fucking pissed. The short amount of time we spent in his room felt like a major turning point for us. Even though we didn’t sleep together, we still crossed that line of intimacy. I’m ashamed to think about how many times I’ve masturbated to the image of his head between my legs or his hard body grinding against mine.
My mind keeps flashing back to how he called me baby, the soft kisses he pressed to every inch of my skin, the way he held me tight to his chest as we slept. I can’t stop thinking of how he cradled my face in his hands, the worry in his expression when I told him I was sick, the look in eyes when I woke him and he instinctively knew something was wrong. He looked so helpless, like his soul wouldn't survive in a world without mine.
I keep thinking about his rough hands roaming across my body, touching every inch of me in the most affectionate way. I hate that I was starting to fall for a man who has the ability to abandon me like I’m nothing. I hate that I’m still falling for him, despite how he’s treating me. They say that hate and love are the two strongest emotions, and it’s just my luck that I’m experiencing both at the same time.
Speaking of the devil, Knox is walking towards our table now. He’s been making his rounds, formally introducing himself to the team's friends and families. He’s glanced at our table a few times but refuses to make eye contact with me. My blood boils when I notice I’m not the only one casting glances his way. It’s no secret half the team thinks Coach Moore is hot as fuck, but seeing it with my own eyes makes me seethe. If they only knew he had his head buried between my legs a couple weeks ago, calling my name as he came all over my body.
God, he looks so good tonight. He’s wearing a black suit with a white dress shirt, the first few buttons undone, revealing slivers of his tanned chest. His black hair is styled to perfection, looking less like a coach and more like he just walked out of a mafia movie. I pinch my thigh to bring myself back down to reality. I shouldn't be thinking about ripping that suit off him and licking every inch of his body. I should be thinking about what a self-righteous asshole he is.
“Good evening, everyone,” he greets as he approaches us. “I’m Coach Moore. I’m so glad you all could make it tonight.” Knox says it all with a smile, shaking hands with the parents before taking a seat across from me. He’s made eye contact with everyone but me.
“Coach Moore, how nice to finally meet you! I’m Ann, Phoebe’s mother. This is my husband, Charles,” my mom gushes with a fake smile as she turns her head towards my dad.
“Yes, we’re delighted to be here for our daughter. What a beautiful night this is turning out to be,” my dad adds.
“We’re delighted to be here for our daughter.” Bullshit.
My dad hasn't asked me about college once, instead going on and on with Sasha’s dad about the real estate market. My parents aren't even staying the night in Coral Cove; they're taking a red eye flight home right after the banquet. Them showing up this weekend has absolutely nothing to do with me. Tonight is one hundred percent a networking opportunity.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves,” Knox replies with clearly false interest, smiling and nodding his head before turning to greet Sasha’s parents. After everyone is acquainted, my parents begin to show their true colors.
“Coach Moore, tell us, how has our Phoebe been doing? We don’t hear from her much. Sometimes, we wonder if she forgets who we are,” my mom scoffs, putting on her best fake laugh. I hope Knox can see right through that bullshit.
“Yeah, Coach,” I chime in. “I’d love to hear your thoughts on my performance. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten any feedback,” I quip, burning a hole through him with my gaze. I’m determined to make him look at me. I’m not giving him the option to avoid me any longer.
“She’s doing great,” Knox notes, quickly turning his gaze towards me in acknowledgment. He only looks at me for a split second, but I see an emotion that looks like pain flash across his face when his eyes meet mine, like it physically hurt to look at me.