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look as though we’re talking about something far more interesting.

Far more intimate.

We keep it up for about five solid minutes before the screeching of tires signals our next cue. I spin toward the sound, releasing Ricky’s hands, and meet West’s furious glare through his windshield. Yes, he’s acting, but some of that fury is real. I feel it even from here.

“This is what the fuck you wanna do?” He climbs out of the car, yelling these angry words while storming toward me and Ricky.

“West, we were just talking,” I insist. “You overreact about everything.”

“Honestly, at this point, who even gives a fuck? If you want to forever be southside trash, fucking around with assholes like this, be my guest,” he scoffs. “In fact, to show you I’m not upset, how about I send you two a pair of tickets to one of my games once I’m drafted?”

There’s the cocky asshole I know and love. And here I was, thinking he’d forgotten how to be a douchebag.

We’re drawing a crowd. Good. At least all this effort won’t be for nothing.

I step away from the hood of my car and move closer to West. “Okay, so you’re done with me. Great. So, why are you here?”

Crossing both arms over my chest like a defiant child, I look him straight in the eyes.

He gives me a sweeping look that’s dripping with disgust. “Just letting you know to your face that this shit’s over. Also, you might want to keep in mind that bitches like you don’t make it far in my city.”

“Watch yourself, rich boy,” Ricky rasps from behind me, sounding menacingly calm.

“Fuck you,” West snaps.

All of a sudden, both are walking toward the other and I’m in the middle.

“Wanna say that shit again?”

“Fuck. You,” West repeats slowly. There’s a challenge in his eyes and it’s clear these two are drawing on their sketchy history to sell this. And based on how the gathering crowd seems to be eating up the drama, they’re convincing more than just me.

Ricky’s fist clenches at his side and I place a hand on each one’s chest, pushing them apart.

“West, just… go!” I yell, holding his gaze. His nostrils flare with rage as he stares, saying so much with his eyes, but I know his heart.

He volleys a look between Ricky and me, then backs off.

“Fuck you both,” he says, “and I hope he dumps your ass for the next hood rat.”

I keep my eyes trained on him until he’s back in his car, and then tears out of the parking lot. We’ve got everyone’s attention, which is good and bad all at once. Good for obvious reasons. Bad because, in the blink of an eye… I just became the girl who broke the heart of this city’s golden boy.

@QweenPandora: RIP NewGirl & KingMidas

That. Was. Brutal.

If you missed the drama, the short version is that KingMidas finally pulled the plug on his and NewGirl’s relationship. Let’s be honest, though. It’s been on life support for weeks now. Maybe if they’d gotten off to a healthier start, there may have been something to hold onto, but perhaps this breakup is for the best?

It seems it’s NewGirl and SeXyBeAsT for now, but who knows how long that’ll last.

Been there, done that, failed once before.

Guess we’ll be watching this train wreck play out together.

Later, Peeps.

—P

Chapter 40

BLUE

Maybe I sold it too hard.

Maybe I said or did something that crossed the line.

All these thoughts and more fly through my head as I dial West for the third time tonight. It’s nearly midnight now and I haven’t heard a single word from him. It’s enough that I’m on edge, pacing in the darkness from one side of my room to the next.

That is, until the sound of an engine revving out front has me rushing toward the window. At the sight of Ricky’s car inching toward the curb, I can’t help but feel let down, having imagined that it’d be West pulling up. But why would I think a stupid thing like that? Especially after that show we just put on, going through the trouble of staging an ugly breakup.

Scar and Mike are asleep, so I’m not surprised he knows to come to my window instead of the door. A black hoodie casts a shadow over his face while he keeps his eyes trained on the snow, trekking through it. I unlock and lift the window, super confused about why he’d stop by without calling.

“What’re you doing here?” I ask, eyeing him as I hug my arms to shield myself from the cold that rushes in.

But then, when he peers up, my heart skips a beat. Because the eyes I’m staring into aren’t the steel-gray I expected. They’re a deep, otherworldly green that has me rushing to pop the screen out of the window frame. Once it’s off, West’s height and strength make it easy for him to hoist himself onto the sill, and then climb inside.

I’m barely able to get the window closed because I’m shaking with excitement. Then, I squeeze him with a hug that says it all—I need this.

“I know this was stupid, and I know I shouldn’t be here, but… I had to see you,” he pants, crashing his lips down on mine before I even have a chance to speak.

I’m so confused, but too happy to ask questions. He leads me to the bed, then I’m lowered to the mattress. West pulls off the hoodie that once hid his face, and the fabric of a dark tee strains around his biceps. I stare as the muscles flex while freeing himself of the shirt, then his jeans and boxers follow. I only bother removing my pajama bottoms and underwear, not caring about my shirt because I need him closer.

Now.

Maybe sensing my impatience, West quickly grabs a condom, then he’s on top of me the next second.

We’re quieter than usual, breathing against one another’s skin as I grip the back of his neck. His movements are careful so

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