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The day is uneventful. Thank goodness.
I’m pretty sure that my sanity wouldn’t be able to take another nerve wracking run-in with Trip or Jason. I doseeJason, however. He stops by just before I break for lunch, plopping down in his typical spot a few tables away from me. I know he wants to talk. He tries to catch my eye a few times, but I studiously ignore him. Luckily, he doesn’t approach the desk. Probably because there are so many students and faculty around. When I get up to head to the break room, he gets up to follow. Thankfully, two young women step between us to talk to him, which effectively blocks Jason from catching up to me.
What is up with his obsession with trying to emotionally destroy me?
During lunch, I call Pianna, and we catch up. Apparently, she and Miguel are on a break, but she feels confident that they’ll be back together by the weekend. I don’t doubt it. This is how it typically goes.
“I really think he could be the one,” Pianna sighs happily at the end of our conversation. “I think wedding bells could be in my near future.”
I don’t have the heart to remind her that this is exactly what she said for the last three guys she’s dated. After we hang up, I return to my desk and find Jason gone.
* * *
That evening,I make it a point to be ready to leave the library at exactly six o’clock. I tell myself it’s not nerves. I’m notafraidof Grant Gipson. Not really. The handsome young running back is just intense and hard to read. Whatever he has up his sleeve tonight, I’ll be able to handle it. It’ll probably have to do with humiliating or degrading me. That seems to be their MO. So far, I’ve come out emotionally battered but physically alright.
Ok that part is questionable. But since we’re not lingering at the school, I feel a tiny bit more confident that I won’t lose my job with whatever Grant has in store.
As I walk down into the parking lot, Grant’s large truck pulls up right beside me. Quickly, I look around, making sure no one is watching. The parking lot remains relatively empty, and no one is behind me. I open the door, ready to pull myself up, but Grant gets out and rounds the truck to help me.
“Thanks,” I mumble. I’m not sure if he hears me or not as he shuts the door and walks back around his vehicle.
When he’s in, Grant pulls away and we’re off. With a sigh, I kick off my shoes and bring my legs up to tuck underneath me. I pull my phone out of my purse just as it vibrates. My screen lights up as I receive a picture from Pianna. I unlock my phone and glance at the picture. It’s of her and Miguel looking as happy as can be. Underneath the picture, a text message pops up:
Pianna: He’s my forever *kissy face emoji*
Well that was the shortest breakup for her yet. I snort in amusement as I place my phone in one of the cupholders built into the center console and relax.
“Who’s that?” Grant asks.
I stare out my window, watching the city of Groveton fly by. “Pianna.”
“What does she want?”
I’m not sure how to respond. I don’t want Grant to know anything about me and Pianna is an extension of me. There’s also the fact that I’m not sure if he’s asking because he’s interested, or if he’s looking for information to store for later. Mentally, I debate the pros and cons of sharing anything. After a moment, I decide giving him something is better than nothing.
“She’s letting me know she’s back together with her boyfriend.”
There’s a pause. “Were you concerned?”
Grant’s question throws me for a loop. Concerned? I was far fromconcerned. I chuckle. “No. If it didn’t work out, she’d be with someone else in two weeks.”
Grant hums. It rings with disapproval. Well,thatcertainly won’t do. I turn back toward him and glare.
“Don’t you dare judge her.”
Grant raises a brow but keeps his eyes on the road. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to. I can feel your censure.”
He shrugs. “Don’t know what to tell you about that.”
“She’s a good person who has a big heart. She can love just about anything or anyone. So when people can’t love her the way she needs, it’s not hard for her to find someone else to give some time and affection to.” My words tumble out passionately as I protect my friend.
“Whatever you say.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t even have a heart. Why would I expect you to understand?”
“I don’t have a heart?”
