Player In Love? ✏️

Chapter 15

Katherines POV

Do I believe him? No. For all I know, he might be trying to make me another one of his conquests. When he said that he liked me the first time, I let it slide, but I felt that it would be good to come clean with my feelings. Just incase.

My heart clenches at the idea of being fucked with. I've always been someone's second choice, and for once I would like to be someone's first. I am genuine, kind, and I care too much about people, but they just end up throwing me aside when they find someone new. 

The ride home was full of us lost in our thoughts. The radio plays todays "Top Hits" as we sit silently, both of us replaying, in our heads, the conversation we shared. My thoughts swarm around the idea that Kellin might possibly like me. While my heart is jumping for joy with the idea that an insanely popular guy likes me, my head is having a hard time believing it. This doesn't add up; why would he have a thing for me? I'm a nerd, my body is nothing special -its just average- my face isn't the best and he has to know that. I'm scarred and broken, why the hell would he want to deal with that?

The tension filling my brain feels like it slips out and all of a sudden, an awkward silence fills the void between us. I shuffle in the passenger seat, readjusting my position. "What's your favorite artist?" I blurt out, trying to erase the tension my mind created.

This seems to catch Kellin off guard as he blankly stares at me. "Like," he pauses for a long second. "Music artist or a painter?" He questions, awkwardly. Something in his voice sounds... off. Now his voice is more timid; quieter than before. He's not being his cocky self

I stare out the window as I reply, "A painter." The street lamps transform into vibrant lights illuminating the city. People stroll down the streets hand in hand with their loved ones. Stray animals roam the pavement, becoming skittish when being approached.

"I like Leonid Afremov."  I try racking my brain to figure out who he is, but in all honesty, I have no idea who he is.

"Who?" I ask, turning to scan his face. I'm familiar with a few artists, but I'm not great with their names.

Kellin lets out a big deep breath and scratches the side of his head before replying. "He's a well-known oil painter who creates these crazy pieces. He uses these intense colors which creates a beautiful landscape. My sister is really into art and she would try and replicate some artwork from famous painters. Some of my favorite paintings she's done were inspired by Leonid Afremov."

I sit in shock because I've never known a guy to actually like art. Usually guys talk about sports, cars or nude women like this. I examine his face as the city lights display his attractive features before shadows flash through the car. I stare out the front window, watching the passing pedestrians walk the semi-busy sidewalk. Some were couples walking hand in hand, others looked like groups of friends having a good time.

For some reason, my mind can't stop wandering back to that kiss. It didn't feel like a regular, no strings attached kiss; it felt like something more. There was passion, wanting, and a connection. I shake my head, trying to get rid of the memory. The kiss meant nothing. Kellin means nothing to me. He's just a player, trying to find easy prey who he can take advantage of and if he thinks that's going to be me, he's wrong. I won't let anyone take advantage of me. Right now I'm taking advantage of his place and once I'm able to afford my own place, I'm leaving his place and we're never going to have contact again.

I reach to turn the volume up and submerge myself in the music. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Kellin glance at me before running his fingers through his hair. It feels like its been an hour when we finally pull into the parking lot in front of his apartment. I nearly jump out of the car and sprint through the doors until I realize I forgot my key in my room. I shuffle a few steps behind Kellin and let him stride further ahead of me.