Read Online Hung Out: A Needles and Pins Rock Romance by Lyrica Creed - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lyrica Creed
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The jealousy didn’t completely subside. How did Colt know there was a mess? Obviously because she called him. And that, right there, was something he couldn’t seem to get past. The freaky friendship she and Colt had. The hate-one-minute-and-best-friends-next-minute rapport they had.
Inhaling a calming breath of night air, he ended the call. Fuck Colt. Fuck Scarlette. Fuck this shit that was his life. If he walked out now, he could… But no. He was learning to handle his shit. To not let his emotions fuck up his life. And walking out of here would screw up everything.
Chapter 13
I was drifting into an exhausted doze when the pillow next to me vibrated, and Rascal picked up his head. My heart pounded as I pulled up the message.
Gage
You awake?
12:22 AM
Almost immediately, he called. Continuing to hold the phone, I watched his face flash on the screen until the call routed automatically to voicemail. When a chime indicated a message left, I hastily put the speaker to my ear.
‘I’m sorry. So, so sorry. If you’re awake, call me.’
Holding the phone to my chest, I watched Rascal settle back down and debated dialing. It was late. From what I understood, his phone wouldn’t take or receive calls inside his room. So was he waiting about somewhere to see if I would call back? For this, I felt a niggling tug of guilt. As badly as I had wanted to hear from him, now I realized it made no difference.
It was early when he called the next morning. This time, the rings woke me from a dead sleep, and I didn’t think it through. I answered. His sincere apology and the sexy timbre of his voice in my ear further blended my mixed emotions.
“I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” And when I remained quiet, he whispered, “I fucked up, Scar. I feel like shit. Hell, I am shit. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“I know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, just below the tear ducts, which had begun weeping again.
“I wish I was there. I wish I could hold you.”
Pushing aside the covers, I sat up, drawing my legs up and curling an arm around them. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah. It does. I was wrong. Way wrong.”
“I know.”
The seconds stretched into a minute. My phone shook with an incoming text, and I ignored it while listening to his quiet breaths.
“Talk to me, Scar. Yell at me. Something.”
“It doesn’t matter. Because there’s something so screwed up about you even thinking that.” Somehow, I forced the next words out. “This isn’t going to work. We’re not going to work.”
“Don’t think like that. Okay?” His voice was raspy. As if his throat was as closed up as mine. “What you’re saying is true. And you know I know that. I told you. I fucked up. But
we’re
going to work. I promise you that. I
promise
you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can.”
I had no doubts Gage would fluctuate back and forth until I gave in. He was stubborn, but stubbornness didn’t make what he was saying true. A piece of me was afraid he would walk out of rehab. He’d done it before for much less. Right?
And so I threw him a bone. “I just need to think, okay? And Rascal needs to go out.”
Rascal picked his head up and stretched. I swung my feet to the floor and padded to the bathroom. A hellish version of myself stared from the mirror.
Finally, he spoke. “Okay, darlin’.”
And the call ended.
Chapter 14
T he student center was a main artery of the campus, pulsating with laughter and chatter. These days, I dreaded happy faces and avoided crowds. However, this afternoon, I was lured by a double express latte. Mike swung open the door, and with a smile of thanks, I preceded him.
Did one ever get used to being shadowed by Rambo? At least I wasn’t the only one with my bodyguard squeezed into a chair half his size in the classrooms. In one of my classes, a young woman I had heard was a sitcom star breezed in each morning with her own burly escort.
Inhaling a calming breath of night air, he ended the call. Fuck Colt. Fuck Scarlette. Fuck this shit that was his life. If he walked out now, he could… But no. He was learning to handle his shit. To not let his emotions fuck up his life. And walking out of here would screw up everything.
Chapter 13
I was drifting into an exhausted doze when the pillow next to me vibrated, and Rascal picked up his head. My heart pounded as I pulled up the message.
Gage
You awake?
12:22 AM
Almost immediately, he called. Continuing to hold the phone, I watched his face flash on the screen until the call routed automatically to voicemail. When a chime indicated a message left, I hastily put the speaker to my ear.
‘I’m sorry. So, so sorry. If you’re awake, call me.’
Holding the phone to my chest, I watched Rascal settle back down and debated dialing. It was late. From what I understood, his phone wouldn’t take or receive calls inside his room. So was he waiting about somewhere to see if I would call back? For this, I felt a niggling tug of guilt. As badly as I had wanted to hear from him, now I realized it made no difference.
It was early when he called the next morning. This time, the rings woke me from a dead sleep, and I didn’t think it through. I answered. His sincere apology and the sexy timbre of his voice in my ear further blended my mixed emotions.
“I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry.” And when I remained quiet, he whispered, “I fucked up, Scar. I feel like shit. Hell, I am shit. I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”
“I know.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, just below the tear ducts, which had begun weeping again.
“I wish I was there. I wish I could hold you.”
Pushing aside the covers, I sat up, drawing my legs up and curling an arm around them. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Yeah. It does. I was wrong. Way wrong.”
“I know.”
The seconds stretched into a minute. My phone shook with an incoming text, and I ignored it while listening to his quiet breaths.
“Talk to me, Scar. Yell at me. Something.”
“It doesn’t matter. Because there’s something so screwed up about you even thinking that.” Somehow, I forced the next words out. “This isn’t going to work. We’re not going to work.”
“Don’t think like that. Okay?” His voice was raspy. As if his throat was as closed up as mine. “What you’re saying is true. And you know I know that. I told you. I fucked up. But
we’re
going to work. I promise you that. I
promise
you.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“I can.”
I had no doubts Gage would fluctuate back and forth until I gave in. He was stubborn, but stubbornness didn’t make what he was saying true. A piece of me was afraid he would walk out of rehab. He’d done it before for much less. Right?
And so I threw him a bone. “I just need to think, okay? And Rascal needs to go out.”
Rascal picked his head up and stretched. I swung my feet to the floor and padded to the bathroom. A hellish version of myself stared from the mirror.
Finally, he spoke. “Okay, darlin’.”
And the call ended.
Chapter 14
T he student center was a main artery of the campus, pulsating with laughter and chatter. These days, I dreaded happy faces and avoided crowds. However, this afternoon, I was lured by a double express latte. Mike swung open the door, and with a smile of thanks, I preceded him.
Did one ever get used to being shadowed by Rambo? At least I wasn’t the only one with my bodyguard squeezed into a chair half his size in the classrooms. In one of my classes, a young woman I had heard was a sitcom star breezed in each morning with her own burly escort.
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