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"No, you won’t," I chuckle. Just the thought of the little competition we carry out whenever we get together makes my pulse race.
We disconnect after a few more minutes of catching up, and I place my phone on the nightstand.
Back to bringing Lilly home.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It’s beenfive nights since I slept in Rhys’s arms, and I am yet again in a state ofThe Walking Dead. Sunday can’t come soon enough. Tristen has to go back to his most recent job site for a follow-up, and Rhys has promised to sleep at home. Between school and practice for the district championship, I haven’t spent more than five minutes alone with him, and the ache in my chest is growing stronger.
The same wayRhys started coming to the gym on Saturdays, I am going to the gym on Sundays. That also works out in my favor for the training sessions with Spence whenever I miss my Saturday session due to an invitational or, like this weekend, the district championship.
Between districts and Spence deciding to do a full hour sparring session after I already ran five miles on the treadmill with Denielle, I can barely walk straight when I come home on Sunday. My giddiness that I’ll be in Rhys’s arms in a few short hours immediately disintegrates, like the dried flower petal I attempted to pick up from the kitchen counter the other day, when I enter the kitchen and find Heather, Tristen, and Natty having lunch together.
He was supposed to have left by now.
As if he’s reading my mind, Tristen informs me that he moved his flight to early Monday morning. I’m fighting the urge to burst into tears on the spot. Rhys won’t be coming home.
Monday seems to never end.Classes are dragging, and I can’t concentrate. I’m either about to fall asleep or am too jittery to pay attention due to the amount of caffeine coursing through my veins. In both scenarios, I’m only semi-functioning and can’t answer one question when the teachers call on me.
Relieved I’ve finally made it through my last class, Denielle and I have just exited the west wing when my phone vibrates in the back pocket of my jeans. My stomach immediately does a flip with a cartwheel followed by a back tuck because Den is walking next to me, and that means it’s Rhys—until I pull it out and glimpse at the screen.UNKNOWN.
No, no, no.
Denielle takes a couple more steps before she realizes I’m not beside her. Turning, her gaze falls to my phone with a frown. "Babe?"
Sometime between me reading the sender’s name of the incoming message and my best friend noticing I wasn’t following her, my entire body started trembling. I’m struggling to hold on to the small rectangle. She seems to understand what’s happening, because she’s at my side with two long strides. Grabbing my phone, she sticks it in her coat pocket and leads me by the arm to my car. I stumble along like I’ve had one too many drinks—which in my case would probably be just half of one. Without stopping, she fishes the keys out of my leather jacket, unlocks the Jeep, and deposits me in the passenger seat.
I didn’t even notice that she led me to this side of the car.
Joining me on the driver’s side, she holds the phone out once settled inside. "Do you want me to read it, or do you want to?" Her tone is gentle like she’s worried I’ll break down at any moment, whichisa possibility.
I take the phone from her and swipe the message open. I can feel Denielle watching me. One more deep breath and I look down at the screen.
The first photo is from the evening we all met at Bones. It’s grainy, but you can recognize everyone in the picture. Rhys is fist-bumping Wes across the table, Denielle is laughing, and I’m cuddled into Rhys’s side with my eyes closed. The whole exchange took maybe five seconds. I remember clearly that I didn’t allow myself to linger any longer on Rhys’s shoulder, but the picture is perfectly timed.
The second is of Nate and me at the gym, the morning he introduced himself. And once again, the timing is impeccable. He is shaking my hand, and we’re both smiling at each other, which makes the scene appear way more intimate than it was.
The third one is of Rhys and Katherine. It’s taken from an angle above. A school surveillance camera? They’re tucked in some corner. Kat’s hand is on his chest, and a smug smile is on her evil face. What. The. Hell? My sight is starting to fog, but I keep scrolling to the last picture and want to throw up. Dropping the device, it clatters to the floor, facing up—the photo of Denielle and me walking out of the school displayed on the screen. She is wearing her newcamel pea coat—the one she bought this past weekend—and I’m wearing my black leather jacket. The picture is not fifteen minutes old. The caption underneath readsSee you soon.
"He’s here." My voice is hoarse, and I can’t seem to take a breath.
"WHAT?" Denielle sounds the opposite, loud and shrill. She climbs over the middle console and bends down with her head half in my lap to retrieve the phone. I can’t move. Scrolling through the message and muttering several curse words, she opens the door and jumps out.
That snaps me out of my paralysis. "Where are you going?"
Her muffled voice seeps into the inside of the Jeep as she walks around the car to open my door and pulls me out. "We’re going to find Rhys and Wes."
"Wha—NO!" I dig my heels in the ground, but it’s no use.
When did she become so strong?
"We can’t. He has practice.With the cheerleaders." Katherine will be there. He met with her behind my back. The thought slams into me like lightning hitting a tree.
"I don’t give a flying fuck about that. That fucker was here. At school! FUCK!" Den even stomps her foot to emphasize her level offucked-up-ness.
"Can you not say fuck so much?" I mumble as she drags me down the path leading to the field house and gymnasium.
"Babe, fuck is a very appropriate expression for the current situation."
