Has he… has he been seeing her behind my back? Is that why she threw down yesterday?
Immediately, I chastise myself for being so pessimistic, for not trusting Rider. Until this moment, he’s been nothing but reliable.
But my heart hammers as I realize I can’t reconcile what I’m seeing with what I know about this man.
Their conversation looks serious. Until she reaches across the table and grabs his hand.
I wait for him to shrug her off, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he smiles.
Stunned, I watch them talk for a few more minutes. All the while holding hands. As they walk to her car, she slips her arm through his. Again, he doesn’t object.
They’re so chummy, he even drives her car.
Like a boyfriend would.
And it makes me wonder if everything I know about Rider is a lie.
61
GABBY
Seething,I wait for my phone to ring.
The longer it’s silent, the dumber I feel. It’s an inverse reaction, an algebra equation I can’t seem to solve.
Or maybe I don’t want the answer.
I finally watched the press conference Barstow mentioned, the one in which Rider Kingston told the press he’s single and “solely focused on playing football and taking care of his daughter.”
It wouldn’t have bothered me yesterday. Okay, it would’ve bothered me a little, but a part of me understands why he’d say that. We’ve only been dating about a month. I can understand why he’d not make any announcements yet.
But after seeing him with Miranda, it bothers me more than I care to admit.
“If you pace anymore, you’re gonna wear a hole through the floor.” Sienna pops a grape in her mouth. I told her everything when I got home. What happened with Miranda and Zoe yesterday at the student union, my meeting with Miranda’s father today, and what I saw from the parking lot of that burger joint. “Have you called him?”
“Yes.”
“And you left a message?”
I roll my eyes. “No, but he knows I called.”
“But you didn’t leave a message or text?”
“I take issue with how rational you’re sounding right now. Please go away.” I grab my phone and punch at the screen. When I’m done I show my roommate the message, since she hasn’t budged from the couch.
“‘Call me.’ All caps. Hmm.”
“Simple and straightforward. And if he’s really smart, he’ll get the subtext—that I’m planning to murder him in his sleep if he’s been screwing Miranda all this time.”
She pauses with a grape midway to her mouth. “You’re a little scary right now.”
“I got fired today. I have every right to be a bitch and rage.”
With one hand, she holds up a beer. “That you do, girlfriend. I’m not denying you’ve had a shitty day. But you might want to tuck away the sharpened knives until you talk to Rider first and see what he says. There might be a perfectly good explanation for what you saw.”
“There you go, being logical again. Why are you doing this to me?” I’m joking but I’m not.
