Angie: Justine says and I quote “why do heteros waste so much time acting like they don’t want to fuck?”

Me: Justine can kiss my ass

Angie: She says she loves you too

Me: Forreal what am I gonna do? He can’t stay here. It’s too much

Angie: Sorry boo can’t help you here. I agree with him that you shouldn’t be staying by yourself

Me: Traitor

Angie: Call it what you want. My advice is either deal with your shit head-on or start wearing a fucking chastity belt because that’s the only way you’ll keep the goods away from that man.

Me: I’m perfectly capable of keeping the goods away from him

Angie: Bitch please I don’t even like dick and I’d get on my knees if he asked

Me: Why do you always have to do the most?

Angie: Why do you always have to do the bare minimum?

She texts again when I leave her on read for five minutes.

Angie: Mhm exactly and just out of curiosity how many times have you masturbated since being back in Texas?

Three times. Once after I saw him for the first time, once last night, and once this morning when I heard him showering.

Me: None of your business

Angie: LOL sucia

Angie: Good luck boo

Ugh, what good is she? I toss my phone on the couch when there’s a knock on the door. I grab my crutches and make my way across the room. Someone should really create some more comfortable crutches because these suck.

Panic settles into the very marrow of my bones when I move my curtains to the side to see Jason Harding waiting for me on the other side of the door. How the hell did he find me? I figured I’d run into him eventually, but I’m not ready to deal with him yet. The banging just gets louder, so I take a deep breath and yank the door open.

“Hi Dad.”

“Liv. When were you gonna tell me you’re back in town?”

I shrug in response, causing him to huff. I can see the wheels turning in his head. “You gonna invite me in?”

I debate telling him no and slamming the door in his face, but I know he’ll just come back. It’s better to get this over with while Kai’s gone. I don’t need the two of them seeing each other. I step aside to let him in, giving him as wide a berth as possible.

“Nice place,” he compliments.

“Thanks. What are you doing here, Dad?”

“We haven’t talked since your accident.” Oh, you mean right before I went into surgery when you called me not to check on me but to tell me my game was sloppy that day which is probably why this happened and walk me through what I needed to do to get started with recovery? I wonder why we haven’t spoken since. “I wanted to check on you, see how PT is going. You never told me who you’re working with.” For very good reason.