“Raffi.” Phil waves across the room to the man who sucked every bit of oxygen out of it. “You’re up. See you Wednesday, Tori.”
Raffi nods, but holds up two fingers at our personal trainer. “Can we talk?”
If my stomach wasn’t through the floor already, it would be twisting up in knots.
He waits for me to grab my stuff and follows me out onto the landing outsidethe door.
“You workout here?”
His brows flinch. “What? No. Why would you say that?”
“This gym isn’t near campus. You have no reason to be here.”
“Neither do you.” He points at me, the corners of his lips threatening to turn up into a smile.
I’m not telling him I live near here. He doesn’t need to know that. “I heard Phil was a great trainer.” And I got an intro package for classes at an absolute steal so there were no more excuses not to get my ass to the gym.
“Me too.” He scrubs the back of his neck, eyes cast to the floor between our feet. “I gave Eloise my number. We should talk.” His eyes are swimming with emotions I can’t read and imploring me not to lose my shit at him.
It takes all my fucking strength not to shove his ass down the stairs. “About what?”
He casts a tentative glance over his shoulder. “Please? Can I just have your number? We can talk.”
Is this fucker for real? Flexing my hands by my sides, I need to finger the edges of my clothing so I don’t deck this asshole. “Where’s your phone?”
He whips it out of the pocket of his sweats and holds it out to me.
With a shake of my head, I point at the damn thing. “Unlock it, and go to your contacts.”
His head starts moving slowly from side to side as all color drains from his face. “No.” It’s barely a whisper. He turns the phone to me, he’s at ‘T’ in his contacts, and my name’s not there. “Short for Victoria, right?” He scrolls further into the alphabet and there’s no sign of my name there either.
I can’t even with this dumbass. “You’re kidding me, right?”
His eyes are pleading with me. “I—uh.”
“Go to ‘F’”
Confusion pinches his brow as his thumb works the screen. It takes a long minute of scrolling the names on the list. Scroll up, head tip, scroll back. His eyes are working up and down while he nibbles on his bottom lip.
I see the exact moment when he realizes he’s had my number this whole time. How did he not know that? It’s literallyrightthere. Regardless, it’s the final nail in the coffin for this ghosting prick. I’m already turned on my heel and halfway down the stairs when a single word falls from his lips that brings tears to my eyes.
“Firecracker."
CHAPTER 16
Raffi
“Thanks for agreeing to meet with me.” Dunno why the words coming out of my mouth are so measured, clipped, and formal when my insides are like they’ve been pushed through a shredder.
I swallow.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t say a thing.
We’re the only people in Get the Fork Out—the local, secret, tiny pie cafe inside a dry cleaners—and we’ve both ordered a slice of savory pie. It’s the first time I’ve been here since ownership changed. Apparently the old owner wanted to move home to Ireland to be closer to his family, so he sold the business and left.
The new owner, Megan, is a bubbly young woman who seems to know her pie stuff. Apparently she was Brian’s sous chef, and the key to all the amazing pie secrets. But the proof is in the eating.
Victoria just stares at me, silent loathing seeping out of her body as she mentally plans various ways to kill me. At least that’s how it feels, like she’s plotting my murder. Repeatedly.
