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“Oh, come on. You seriously want me to believe you became known as the most sexually active couple in school in THREE WEEKS?”
I couldn’t believe I actually wrote that. And pushed send. But typing something felt so much braver than saying it aloud, which I probably never would’ve done.
“WHAT?” he exploded almost immediately. “Who told you that? Todd?”
I sniffed. “No, he did not. It doesn’t matter who told me. Everyone says it, that’s the point.”
“And you actually believe it?”
I bit my lip. I wished I could hear the inflection in his words instead of just reading them on the screen. He seemed hurt by Laina’s gossip. But I couldn’t tell for sure. Not unless I actually saw his face and heard his voice. Still, it made me wonder. Could the gossip be just that? Gossip.
“You’re unbelievable,” he wrote on. “You brushed me off in the first place, so technically, you should forfeit all your rights to feel upset if I now have a girlfriend, which I DID NOT have when I first met you. But it doesn’t work that way, does it? You can’t help what you feel, whether you should feel it or not. And I can’t help being upset that YOU spent the night sucking face with MY BEST FRIEND.”
I sighed. Geesh, he had a point. If I forced myself to see things from his perspective, then okay, it’d sting to be shot down by a girl only for her to turn around and kiss his friend. But honestly, he didn’t have all the facts.
“If it makes you feel better, he’s the one who kissed me.” There. Hopefully that mollified him.
It didn’t.
“Did you stop him?” he persisted.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. It didn’t seem fair to Todd to reveal that I had indeed pulled away from him...after five seconds of not pulling away.
“Did you like it?” Ryder prodded when I didn’t answer the last question.
Gritting my teeth, I wrote, “I’m leaving now,” and quickly, I logged off.
I blew out a breath, staring at the login screen that had popped up, beckoning me to re-enter my password. Unable to stop myself, I logged back in to see if he was gone.
“I knew you’d come back.”
Dang it. Now he knew I was interested. I needed to set this guy straight. Clearing my throat, I settled my fingers on the keyboard and commenced to putting him in his place—or what I fully believed would put him in his place. “I don’t think your girlfriend would like knowing you’re talking to me right now.”
Alas, I fear he wasn’t intimidated in the least because he shot back, “You remind me I have a girlfriend a lot.”
I groaned and returned, “You seem to forget a lot.”
“Trust me, Kiera doesn’t let me forget.”
Interesting. “Do I detect bitterness?” I had to ask.
When he didn’t immediately respond, my fingers flew again, typing with a fury. “If you don’t like her, then why are you with her?”
But just as I hit send, another message popped up. “I have your glove.”
I frowned. “What glove?”
Again, he responded with “Kiera’s not so bad,” about as soon as I pressed enter.
Ack, now we had two conversations going on with each other. Confusion much.
With a snort, I snidely typed, “Not so bad. Now THAT sounds like true love.”
It took him a while to respond with, “The red and black striped glove from the snow. I found it on the floor in my room where all the coats had been piled.”
About the same time I said, “It must’ve fallen out of my coat pocket,” he retorted, “I’m in high school. Who meets their one true love in high school?”
I gasped, royally offended. “My mom and dad were high school sweethearts.”
