Page 21 of Say My Name


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The scowl on his face is instant as he narrows his eyes, stepping back into the far corner like I carry some communal disease he doesn’t want to catch. Which… is fair, I suppose. It only makes my grin stretch wider.

“Cat got your tongue?” I ask, pushing the button to our floor.

“Fuck off,” he grumbles.

Just to fuck with him, I stand right beside him, despite there being space. He smells sweet, like caramel, and masculine all at the same time. Leaning in, I say right in his ear, “You know how fucking hot you look all angry like that?”

Head whipping to the side, fire burning through the iciness of his gaze, he shoots daggers at me, full lips pressed into a thin line. “You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” he snaps, voice laced with venom. “Bet you’re real proud of yourself too, huh? Fucking someone else’s man. What a macho man you are.”

A better man would probably point out, once and for all, that I didn’t know he had a boyfriend. But where’s the fun in that? It would likely stop this push and pull I can’t seem to get enough of.

The grin on my face widens before I blow him a kiss. He scoffs as the doors slide open. Without even looking back, he scurries off the elevator as I call after him, “Goodnight,cariño!”

Fuck, riling him up sure did a number on improving my mood.

11

TRAVIS

This day couldn’t get any worse. Since the moment I woke up this morning, the whole day’s been screwed. My coffee spilled all over my lap as soon as I sat at my desk; thankfully, I had a change of clothes in my car, then two of my clients canceled on me with zero explanation, and I realized halfway through my morning that I forgot my lunch at home. Left it sitting right on the counter, where it’s doing me no good.

I’ve also been majorly in my feels over the last few days. I was brutally reminded that it should’ve been mine and Nathaniel’s dating anniversary yesterday when a watch I had ordered on backorder for him months ago showed up at my work. It was a slap in the face I didn’t need, and the cherry on top was running into Mateo in the hallway last night—again—when I got home from work.

It happensall the time, and I swear, he’s standing in the hall,tryingto run into me. Of course, that’s absurd and awfully vain of myself, but I can’t help but think it. I’ve never ran into any of my neighbors as much as I do him. Though, maybe I did, and I didn’t notice as much because I didn’t loathe the very sight of them the way I do him.

It’s like running intoMateo—even his name infuriates me—paired with the delivery of the gift that was meant for a boyfriend as a way of sayingI loveyou andHappy Anniversaryset off a bunch of lovely reminders of all the shit I’ve gone through these last few months. A stinging flashback of how fucking stupid and naive I was to stay with Nathaniel.

It seems like whenever you get cheated on, you can’t help but look inward, try to pick apart what it is aboutyouthat made them cheat. Whatyoucould’ve done differently to have kept them from wandering. Why is it, whenever you’re disrespected in a relationship, your first thoughtisn’twhat the fuck is wrong withthem, why was it so easy forthemto lie and deceive you?

No, the first thoughts are always centered around how it could’ve been your fault. What couldyouhave done differently to keep them from straying. At least, that’s how it is for me. How fucked up is that?

All I’ve wanted since I was a kid is somebody to love me, to pick me, to choose me, like I’m Meredith fucking Grey out here. I’ve never cheated or played somebody, never ghosted anyone. I’m always honest and upfront, even if it’s uncomfortable. Yet, time and time again, I land here. Nathaniel is my most recent and most painful, but he certainly isn’t the first.

And something tells me he won’t be the last.

It’s as if no matter how much I want love, I want a family, I want it all, I have a permanent sign on my forehead, begging assholes to fuck me over.

I need to get over Nathaniel and what he did to me, but I don’t know how. No matter how hard I try to not think about him, to not dwell, he’s always right there, in the forefront of my mind. No amount of work hides my feelings, and no amount of booze drowns out his face—or the memory of him bent over the bed for another man.It’s been almost two months since I caught him in the act… you’d think time would start healing those wounds already.

Thrusting my fingers into my hair, I sit back in my chair, letting my head drop back. Heaving a shaky sigh, I decide my best course of action is to run and grab some lunch. Maybe some fresh air and time away from the office will help reset my day.

I highly doubt it, but one can hope.

After I bundle myself up in my coat, hat, scarf, and gloves, I grab my wallet, keys, and phone, leaving my office, and heading downstairs. The storm they keep warning us about has to be hitting soon. The flakes are thicker, the wind has picked up, and it’s finally starting to stick. I fucking hate this time of year. I hate the cold.

I was born in the wrong state, I swear.

Thankfully, my car is a beast and handles this god-awful weather like a champ. Turning up the heat and the music once I’m settled behind the wheel, I take off in the direction of a sandwich shop on Crawler Avenue. The condition of the road and the other cars around me surprisingly keep my mind from wandering into unwanted territories.

Taking a right, I pull onto Crawler, keeping an eye out for a spot to park along the curb. Fucking hate parking around here. What the hell ever happened to parking lots?

Jesus, I’m annoying even myself with the poor mood I’m in today.

I find a spot about a block away from the sandwich shop, and weave my way in, but not before slipping on some ice and hitting the curb. It’s surprisingly busy inside, but I’m able to be in and out in less than fifteen minutes. Damn near freezing my balls off, I walk back to the car, stopping dead in my tracks as I approach it.

“You gotta befuckingkidding me.” The tire that hit the curb when I parked is flat. My head drops back onto my shoulders as I stare up at the sky. “Anything else you’d like to fucking throw my way today?”

Letting my eyes close, I drag in a deep breath, exhaling through my nose. I repeat the process a few more times before finally pulling out my phone. Knowing I don’t have a spare with me, I call the nearest shop, and they let me know they’re sending a tow truck, but it’ll be close to half an hour before they can get there.