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Well, fuck me. Now we have a psycho stalkeranda psycho ex to deal with.
The burning sensationin my chest won’t go away all morning. I wait for Rhys to text me, tell me what Katherine wanted, and that everything is fine. We’re not even together for twenty-four hours, and the drama already starts. That’s what you get when you start a secret relationship with your adopted brother. I have enough problems with my psycho stalker. Do I really need this kind of drama? Of course I do; this is Rhys. What am I even thinking? Jealousy is an ugly trait and not something I’ve experienced before.
Add that to the list of things to discuss with my future therapist.
I don’t seeor hear from Rhys until lunch. Denielle and I sit at our usual table, still waiting for Sloane and Emma, when Wes and Rhys walk up. Wes plops down at the table while Rhys remains standing behind his best friend, hands in his pockets, acting bored—his school persona on full display.
"D, we’re grabbing something to eat after practice tonight. You guys want to join?"
I am focused on my tray like it holds the most delicious meal in the world and not a slice of soggy cheese pizza. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Denielle silently asking me what she’s supposed to do, but I don’t react. It takes all my concentration not to show any emotion toward Rhys.
Finally, she clears her throat. "Umm, sure. Text me when and where." She decided for me.
"Cool. Talk to you later."
Wes starts pushing out of the chair but stops when Rhys makes no indication to move.
Don’t look up, don’t look up,I chant over and over in my head. If I make eye contact, I won’t be able to keep a neutral face.
Why hasn’t he texted?
I have not once cared when a guy didn’t message me; I simply moved on. But this is different. My feelings, my entire frame of mind—and not just because of the otherthinggoing on in my life. Rhys is different. I care about him. No, I love him, and I don’t want to lose him.Again. How do I know that my stalking kidnapper won’t harm me, but Rhys talks to his ex, and I go off the deep end?
I stifle a groan.
"Seems like the Wicked Bitch still has her claws in you." My eyes snap to Denielle, who is glaring directly at Rhys. What is she doing?
Rhys swears under his breath. He talks to Den, but his answer is directed toward me. "She wanted to talk."
"If you say so," Denielle says coolly. She’s in full-on guard dog mode.
Rhys finally glances at me. "Cal?"
I still don’t trust myself to speak.
"Not here," Denielle hisses disapprovingly. She makes him understand that this is not the time or place, and I could kiss her for that.
Wes takes over, almost a little too loud. "Dude, let’s grab some food. I’m starving." Then, he basically manhandles Rhys toward the lunch line.
As soon as they’re gone, I lift my head, and my gaze collides with Katherine’s, who is standing near her usual table, openly glaring at me. She must have followed the entire exchange. This is getting better and better.
"Babe?" Den bumps her leg against mine, and I focus on her.
I mumble an embarrassed, "Thanks." One word to convey that, without her and Wes taking over the situation, I either would’ve thrown a jealous tantrum or broken down in tears.
Before she can reply, my phone next to my tray lights up with a text from Rhys. I swipe, and Denielle leans in to read it as well.
I SWEAR nothing happened. It’s over. She wanted to talk. I’ll explain.
Next to me, Denielle chuckles and bumps my shoulder. "I believe him. He looks like he’s about to puke. Put him out of his misery."
I pretend to grab something from my bag on the floor and glance back to where Rhys and Wes are standing in line. Den is right. He has a greenish tint, and the anxiety that has been buzzing through my body all morning evaporates. I’ve been overreacting.
I take my lip gloss out of my bag and carefully apply it. I’m fully aware that Katherine’s still watching me, so I take my time before grabbing my phone.
I believe you.
I haven’t put it down yet when another bubble appears.
