“I did tell you once, and you thought I was joking. And when you read it, you didn’t even let me explain,” I say. “Your first reaction was to assume I’d betray you. I might have not shared everything with you, but you should know by now that I’m not a bad person. The fact that you automatically thought the worst of me, what the hell am I supposed to do with that?”
“I don’t know,” he says, sarcasm lacing his angry tone. “Why don’t you go write about it?”
I make a noise of frustration.
“Christ, my old lady is fuckin’ Zada Ryan, and I didn’t even know. How the hell do you think that makes me feel? What, you didn’t trust me enough to share that information with me? Maybe you should be questioning why that is. Either you don’t trust me, or . . . what? Why do you want it to be a secret?”
“I’d just kept it to myself for so long. No one knows about my writing except my mom, and then I told Anna. I was going to tell you, but whenever I tried, other shit was going on and I didn’t feel like it was the right time. I don’t know, Tracker.” I sigh. “I don’t want to fight, all right? I’m just going to go home. Tell Wyatt I’m sorry.”
“I’m not saying anything to that fucker other than to stay away from what’s mine if he wants to keep his pretty face,” he declares, a muscle ticking in his strong jaw.
I open my mouth and then close it. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re delusional if you think I’m done with you,” he states.
I throw my hands up in the air. “I’ve been so damn miserable and you didn’t care. Now I’m trying to move on and here you are fucking it up for me.”
“Bullshit I didn’t care. I fuckin’ care. I drove past your apartment at night just to check on things. I made Blade follow you to and from your classes, and why the hell should you be able to move on when I sure as fuck can’t?” he practically yells at me, his chest heaving with each breath.
“Yeah, you looked heartbroken when I saw you sitting next to that blonde,” I retort, sneering. “Must have been a real hardship for you.”
“I was trying to get over you.”
“Well maybe you should try harder,” I say in a cold voice. “And leave me the hell alone.”
He laughs without humor. “You forget that you’re mine. No matter what you do or say, that will never change.”
“I hate you.”
“And I love you. I read your book. You’re so fuckin’ talented. It’s a shame you didn’t want to share that with me.”
He turns and walks back into the restaurant, while I get in my car and get the hell out of there.
TWENTY-SIX
ANNA sends me five messages apologizing. I know she meant well—she thinks Tracker and I belong together—but now things are up in the air again and I have no idea what happened to Wyatt after I left. I know Anna made sure they didn’t do anything to him. He messaged me and said he didn’t think it was a good idea if we saw each other anymore. Tracker is cock-blocking me while he’s able to get women any time he wants. Infuriating, but . . .
He read my book.
He hates reading.
It was a sweet gesture. And for him to say those kind words about my writing . . .
Damn him!
Pacing up and down my apartment, I’m about to go for a walk when there’s a knock at the door. Opening it, I come face-to-face with Tracker.
“I don’t like the thought of you alone here. In fact, I fuckin’ hate it,” he says in greeting.
“Well, too bad someone kicked me out of my last place,” I say in a cold tone. My words hit their mark, going by the way he flinches.
“I still don’t like it,” he says in a much softer tone.
“Your feelings aren’t high on my priority list anymore,” I say, pushing my glasses up on the bridge of my nose.
He scowls, looking a mixture of angry and resigned. “I brought you something. A present. I know you like ani-
mals so . . .”
Looking down, I see that he has a basket in his hands. Inside is . . .
“Oh my god!” I say, taking the basket from him and peering down at the cute ball of black and gold fur.
“She’s a purebred German shepherd,” he says. “I thought maybe you might like to have someone in the apartment with you. I checked with your landlord, and you’re allowed to have pets.”
“She is perfect,” I say, then glance up at Tracker. “Come in.”
I walk into the kitchen and put the basket down, picking up the puppy and cradling her to my chest.
“She’s so soft and fluffy,” I whisper. “I love her so much!”
Tracker chuckles. “She’s going to have long fur.” He pauses. “It’s nice to see you smile again too.”
I kiss her head. “Thank you, Tracker; she’s perfect.”
“What are you going to call her?” he asks, watching the two of us together.
I think it over. “Evie. I’m going to call her Evie.”
Tracker looks amused. “Isn’t that what you wanted to name your daughter if you ever have one?”
I nod. “Who knows if or when I’ll have kids. And she looks like an Evie, don’t you think? It’s such a pretty name for a pretty little princess,” I say in a baby voice.
“Christ,” I hear him mutter. “I have a bed, food, and some toys for her in the car too.”