My heart slammed in my chest. “Fine. I’m exhausted, and I’ve had to deal with not only one crazy woman today but three, so if y’all will excuse me, I’m going to bed. Help yourself to the guest bedrooms or stay out here. I don’t care. ” I turned and started back toward my bedroom.
“Hey, Layton, speaking of women, what’s with Whitley and Courtney? They open, or you got dibs on one?” Kevin asked.
I turned around to see Reed staring at Kevin.
“What? Which one are you interested in, dude?” Reed asked as he looked at Kevin.
Oh, fucking great. First, Richard, and now, these two.
Kevin smiled and looked at Reed. “Which one are you interested in?”
Reed quickly looked at me and then back at Kevin. “Fuck…neither one. I mean, I think Layton here has got his eye on Whitley, and Courtney seems like a snobby dick-tease from what Bill said. ”
Wait—what?
Kevin glanced at me and then back toward Reed. He threw his head back and laughed. “Dude, I’m interested in the dick-tease. That long blonde hair of hers had me hard all night. ”
I noticed Reed tense up. Interesting.
I turned and walked away. “For the record, I don’t have my eye on Whitley. I’m not interested in dealing with women and all their fucking problems, their neediness, and just their damn moods in general. ”
I heard both Kevin and Reed laugh.
Right before I shut my door, Kevin called out, “Okay, dude, you keep telling yourself that. ”
I walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. I was so damn tired, but I knew I wouldn’t sleep well if I hadn’t taken a shower before bed.
As I bent over to pick up my jeans, I heard my phone go off. I reached into my pocket and took it out. I had a few text messages. I swiped my finger over the screen and tapped on the Messages icon. My heart started beating when I saw I had two messages from Olivia. Then, I noticed that I also had one from Whitley.
I tapped Olivia’s message and closed my eyes before reading it.
Olivia: Layton, I’m really worried about you. I saw how you were hanging all over Misty. Baby, please don’t do this to yourself. Let’s talk. I’ll be up late. Call me.
Olivia: Baby, please…I really need to talk to you. Seeing you today did something to me. I miss you, Layton. I just want to talk to you. Call me as soon as you can. I still love you, Layton. I always will, baby.
I dropped the phone to the floor, sat down on the bed, and placed my face into my hands as I began to cry.
Why is she doing this to me? And just when I felt like I was getting over her. Why is she doing this?
I wasn’t sure how long I’d sat there and just cried like a pansy-ass. I leaned down and picked up my phone. I was just about to tap on Olivia’s message to reply when I remembered Whitley had sent a text also. I backed out of Olivia’s message and opened up Whitley’s. For some reason, my heart started beating faster at the idea of her sending me a text.
She probably just texted to call me an asshole again. Either that, or she is going to tell me to fuck off again. I should have never given her my cell number on the paper that had Jacks number on it.
Whitley: Hey, Layton, it’s Whitley. I know it’s late, and I hope this doesn’t wake you up. If it does, then shit, I’m so sorry. Anywho, I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for the way I acted earlier. I’m not really sure what in the hell came over me. What you do and whom you do it with is none of my business. You were so kind to me today…well, for the most part, you were kind to me…and for me to have acted like that was a real bitch move. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I hope you’ll forgive my brass, New York–bitch attitude.
I couldn’t help but smile at her message. I read it again and shook my head.
Damn that girl is cute as a button. She’s the only girl who has ever driven me insane with anger and lust at the same damn time.
Lust? Oh no, Layton. Don’t even go there. Whitley is just…CG. That’s all. Totally not interested.
I hit the screen, and my keyboard popped up. I smiled as I began typing my reply to Whitley.
Layton: Hey, CG. You’re up late, girl. I thought women liked to get their beauty sleep, and here you are, texting me at three in the morning. And please…don’t apologize for speaking the truth.
I hit Send, and I started to get up to get some boxer shorts when my phone chimed again. I smiled when I saw Whitley’s name.
Whitley: That’s just a myth—that whole women-need-so-many-hours-for-their-beauty-sleep bullshit. It takes more than sleep to get me to look somewhat beautiful. I’m exhausted though, but I can’t put down this fucking book that Courtney is forcing me to read. Have I mentioned that I hate reading?