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Her lips look plumper than when she left.
Did they kiss?
Her face is more flushed.
Did they have sex?
She barely pays me a look when she grabs the phone. “Thank you.” Her tone is polite—herchurchvoice is what I call it. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”
I nod my head, my voice bitter. “By the way, how was hanging out with Professor Cordry?”
She freezes mid-turn, gaping at me. “W-what?”
My teeth grit. “You weren’t with your mom and sister today.”
“What are you talking about?” She grips her throat, rubbing it, catching the truth to replace it with lies.
“I ran into Tricia earlier, and you were nowhere to be found.” I snap my fingers. “She didn’t even know you hadplans. Words of advice: get your story straight if you’re going to lie.”
“What?” she repeats, as if that were the only word she knew.
Her phone beeps, and pain flicks along her face when she glances at the screen.
I raise a brow, releasing a harsh laugh. “Is that a text from … what is the professor to you?”
My asshole is coming through, but I don’t care.
Why the hell did she push us to be more than friends so much if she was still seeing him?
Was I her rebound until they got back together?
“Rex.” Her lower lip trembles, and the phone drops from her hand to the floor. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Explain it then,” I spit. “It surelooks likeyou lied to me and went to him.” I spread my legs, leaning forward, and rest my elbows onto my knees, shaking my head and feeling like a fucking fool. “You deleted most of your texts with him … out of what? Guilt? Secrecy?” I tap my temple. “Only liars have to delete shit from their phones.”
“James and I … we have history.” She clutches her arms around her body.
“And we fucking don’t?” I burst out.
“You know what I mean, Rex.”
I stand and thrust my thumb into my chest. “I was the one who held you in my arms when you were cryingover him!” I shake my head with a snarl. “Now what, huh? You still have feelings for him? He decided he was done sticking his dick in other women and wants you back?”
“We … we needed to talk,” she stammers, her face turning red.
“In person? You drove two hours to talk instead of a phone call?” I throw my arms out. “Or even a text—you know, how you’ve been communicating with him behind my back?”
“No.” She squeezes her eyes shut. “He’d only talk to me in person.” When she opens them, she blinks back tears, causing me to soften my tone.
“To do what?”
“End things.”
“Didn’t you end things months ago? Have you been talking to him behind my back this entire time?” The anger returns. I’m burning with so many questions.
“No …” Her eyes drop. “Sometimes.”
“Jesus!” My voice is thick as it rises. “This is why I didn’t want us to cross that line! I wish I’d never touched you!”
