Amelia | ✔

37. Cat and Mouse Games.

Logan.

*****

I was walking along a dark street. My shoes made soft thuds as I moved. My phone on my hands illuminated the path in front of me.

It was dark.

Too dark, but I was not worried. I grew up there, and I knew I was safe. Nothing dangerous ever happened.

I could recognize almost all the street markings as I used to run around most of those parts as a kid.

My walking pace increase in an attempt to try and hurry to get back home before mom and dad got back from their dinner date. I was way past my curfew, and I didn't want to be at the other end of their wrath.

I smiled at myself as I thought about what kind of shit I would be in if I got there after they do.

From somewhere far behind me, I started to hear the sound of a car. It didn't sound right, there was something wrong with it. The screeching sounds of the tires and the muffled shouting of people that got closer and closer, made me stop taking any more steps forward.

And then, came the blazing front lights that illuminated everything in front of me. I turned around, eyes wide as the car jerked all over the road.

In a flash, I saw the scared, terrified, wide eyes of the driver and the passenger before the car swirls uncontrollably past me and into a tree trunk before it flipped like four times in the air.

"Mom!" I yelled, my hand out in front of me as I jolted awake from my bed.

I closed my eyes to calm myself. A small tingle of anger made my lips curl in a sneer. The fucking nightmares again. I thought I was done with those. That's what my apparent useless therapist had told me.

I brought my hands against my head and run my fingers through my now sweaty, damp hair before I stretched my arm to retrieve my phone on my nightstand and tapped the screen to bring it to life.

No messages or calls.

Fuck!

I actually thought Amelia would have texted or something by now. But apparently what happened was that big of a deal to her.

The way she stormed out of my house on Saturday was something I didn't expect. I expected her to sit and let me explain myself. Alas, my explanations would have had a lot of corners, but still an explanation none the less. She was pissed, I got that. But her storming out got me pissed just as much. So, I decided to let her calm down on her own.

If I'm being completely honest, I didn't expect her to stay quiet until now. I expected her to come to her senses and realize she overreacted a tad bit more than she needed to and call me back, or text, better yet, maybe drive her ass back here, but she did non the above. None of my usual hookups ever stay that long. The fight was on Saturday and today was Monday. It's been almost fucking two days.

I can see I sounded like a jerk just now. Don't get me wrong, believe me when I say this, I don't compare Amelia to any of them. Not at all. With her it's different. I like her, I really do. There's just a matter of needs, know what I mean? A guy has simple basic needs.

Sex.

Plus, I didn't think any of those hookups would call that Saturday. That should be a lesson for me not to give out my number. In a short period, everything went to shit.

Frustrated, I threw my hands on my face and ran them across my hair.

If I didn't like her, I wouldn't even have cared that she had stormed out of my house. But when it comes to her, I have this annoying, freaky need to explain myself. And to touch her and to do things I don't necessarily do to others.