My vision staggers through each frame when he reaches for me, trying to slap away four blurred hands when I’m only supposed to see two. Static rings in my ears as dread sends my chest into overdrive.
His condescending tone tries to convince me that I asked for this, and I’m starting to believe that maybe I did. I should have gotten into my car and driven over his feet as I sped away. Instead, I let him invade my space.
He finally catches my wrist and my knees buckle, but I don’t hit the ground.
Instead, something grabs my other wrist, and I’m yanked out of Jordan’s grip so roughly that my backpack falls to the ground. My body is pressed against what feels like a wall, trembling as it holds me close. I blink hard, focusing on the blurry face of the person holding me up.
Even with the sun blinding me and the unfamiliar twist of anger in his normally mellow features, I know exactly who it is. Kenneth looks down and his whole face relaxes.
“I’m so sorry I’m late, Eddie.” Shifting his attention away from me, his voice turns rough and unrecognizable. “What the hell are you doing, Jordan?”
Chapter Twelve
“I said,” I repeatwhen Jordan doesn’t answer me fast enough, “what the hell are you doing?”
After hearing about Jordan’s plan from Darin, I had to go. I didn’t have the slightest idea what I would say when I found her, but I knew I couldn’t stay at the pool any longer. Part of me only wanted to make sure she got into her car and drove off without Jordan in tow. Then I arrived at the parking lot and saw the person who let her down when she needed him the most.
The reason I got a call from Mallory asking for a ride to the hospital a year ago.
Jordan puffs his broad chest out, eyes empty and dark, contrasting the bright grin across his face. “Kenneth Gray! Nice to see you’re still showing up unwanted and uninvited. I guess some things never change.”
My molars clash. “You’re out here harassing Eddie in broad daylight, and you want to be upset about something that happened over a year ago? It’s your own fault that you refused to help.”
“Eddie. Damn, I still hate that stupid nickname.” Misplaced confidence radiates from the shorter man as he steps forward. “You’ve always been readily available when it comes to her, and everyone knows youwere waiting for us to break up so you could swoop in and save the day. Tell me. Have things changed between you two? Any reward for your loyalty?”
My cheeks burn at the implication of his words, growing hotter when Mallory shakes out of my grip and takes a half-step away from me.
“I’ll take that as a no, and let me tell you why, Gray.” His smirk grows. “Rory hates you. She always has and she always will. No amount of showing up will ever change that. She will never beyourEddie, and it’s pretty pathetic that you thought your little nice-guy stunt of taking her to the hospital would change everything.”
My mouth goes dry. A little over a year ago, I was heading back to Bryan for the holiday break when my phone started ringing. The name that flashed across my screen was shocking enough. Then she took a broken, wobbly breath, and before she even spoke, I was speeding back to Clear Lake.
At one point, I hoped that night would be a turning point for us. We could play the Brain Bowlandbe friends. But when the new semester started, we fell back into our usual routine. Rivals and nothing more.
Part of me hopes she forgot everything that happened. It would hurt less than pretending it never happened.
I’m about to respond when a firm voice beats me to it.
“I know you’re an asshole, but shut up, Jordan. Don’t ever talk to him like that again.”
Jordan’s fiery gaze leaves mine, calming for her. “Don’t defendhim. I’m here to fix things and get us back on track. You and me. I love you, Rory.”
He’s good. It would be easy to fall for the perfected tremble of emotion and practiced honesty in his voice.
The one thing that’s noticeably absent from this spew of bullshit is an actual apology. No ownership is taken as he works to twist the past into something smaller than it was.
“There’s no getting us back on track, Jordan. We’re done. We’ve been done, so leave me alone,” she begs, emphasizing every word.
His callous smile crumples. “You’re clearly not feeling well, and it’s making you say things you don’t mean. Let’s talk it out over dinner.” His glare cuts to me. “Alone.”
“What don’t you understand? No. Never,” Mallory spits, vocalizing my thoughts. Slender fingers wrap around my elbow. “Gray, let’s go.”
Jordan’s voice is like the buzz of an annoying fly that won’t go away, talking at our backs as I bend over to grab her backpack. Then he utters the words that make fury rush to my fist.
The same fist that’s about to find a home against his nose.
“Whatever. I wouldn’t want to deal with your baggage anyway.”
“My baggage?” she chokes out.
