All of the reasons I’m upset with Rider collide with what happened with Miranda’s father today, and I’m almost dizzy with anger.
I put a steadying hand on the wall and close my eyes until the spinning stops.
“Are you okay?” Her voice comes to me through a vacuum.
“Yeah. Just… I’m fine.” I open my eyes and wipe my clammy forehead with my palm.
“You could always go over there.”
She’s right. I should take charge. I mean, why am I waiting for this guy to call me? He lives thirty feet away. Why should I torture myself like some helpless Disney princess waiting for some dumbass to climb through her window and rescue her?
I’m going to get the answers I need.
And if Rider’s been cheating on me, he can fuck right off.
“You’re brilliant.” After I slip on my shoes, I yank open the door. I’m halfway across the street when I see Miranda’s bright car parked next door.
Oh, God. She’s here.
Her shiny Lexus wasn’t there when I got home a little while ago.
My eye twitches wildly, like it’s trying to outpace my heart.
The front door of the football house opens and I stop on the lawn and watch Miranda pause in the entryway. She sees me and gives me a snakelike smile before turning to talk to Rider, who’s now almost right next to her.
He doesn’t see me.
They’re so close, their bodies almost touch. And when she slings her arms around his neck, my heart is in my throat as I watch his wrap around her. His head tilts down and he must say something in her ear because she giggles, and she fucking slides her hand into his hair.
I cross my arms and wait for them to separate.
I’m so incensed, I’m surprised my head doesn’t blow off my body.
When he sees me, he stiffens. That’s a guilty response if I ever saw one.
Miranda grins at me. “Hey, Gabby.”
“Fuck you,” I say. Her mouth opens in a gasp. “Don’t stand there and pretend you didn’t know I was here the whole time you groped him in the doorway.”
“Gabby.” Rider coughs. “It’s not like that.”
“Really? Then enlighten me.”
Miranda scoffs, her voice a baby-soft coo, as she places her hand on his chest. “You don’t owe her an explanation, Rider.”
“Miranda,” I growl. “If you value your face, you will remove it from my sight before I pluck out both of your beady little eyes. You got me?”
She looks to Rider, who remains stoic and silent. “I’ll call you later with what we talked about.” And then she trots her annoying ass to her luxury vehicle and drives away.
“Was that really necessary?” Rider asks quietly.
“You tell me. Why are you hanging out with her? Don’t you see she’s manipulating you?”
His brows furrow. “Why do you think she’s manipulating me?”
Can he really not see it? How she’s all giggles and flutters? Is he blatantly lying to me or willingly deceived?
A wave of dizziness hits me. I take a deep breath, somehow able to brush it back, but my train of thought is trashed.
