Page 183 of The Dixon Rule

“I don’t want you to go. Please. I’m asking you not to.”

“It’s a conversation. Nothing more.”

Silence falls between us. Voices from the lobby drift into the hall, animated chatter and muffled laughter, but Diana and I are at an impasse, neither of us making a sound.

Finally, she speaks. Her voice is colder than the Atlantic.

“All right, Shane. I see how this is.”

Frustration clamps around my throat. “What do you mean?”

She laughs bitterly. “I literally just stood here and told you I have feelings for you, and you said nothing in return. So I see it, plain as day. I see where we’re at. I see what this is to me, and I see what this is to you. And you know what? Just go with Lynsey. Hope you have fun.”

Diana spins on her heel and marches off without a backward look.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

DIANA

It’s not a relationship

“YOU’RE NOT DRIVING WITH SHANE?” GIGI SAYS WHEN I PRACTICALLY drag her out of the arena and tell her I’m ready to go.

Mya’s hurrying after us, dressed like she should be at an art gallery instead of a hockey game. She’s sporting leather stiletto boots, tight black pants, and a gray cashmere sweater beneath her peacoat. The scarf is designer, of course. Mya Bell is stunning. She wants to be a surgeon, and I have no doubt her patients are really going to enjoy the view. This gorgeous creature, cutting them open.

“D?” Gigi pushes.

“Shane has somewhere else he needs to be,” I say tersely.

She gives me a blank look. “Okay…?”

It’s a question. I don’t answer it.

We reach Gigi’s SUV, and I slide into the backseat without fighting for shotgun like I normally would with Mya.

Gigi starts the engine and pulls away. I stare at the back of her head and try not to cry. It barely registers that there’s not much chatter between her and Mya, so when Gigi stops at a red light a few minutes later and both women twist around to study me, I blink in confusion.

“What’s wrong?” I ask them.

“Yes, what’s wrong! What is wrong with you?” Gigi demands.

“Seriously,” Mya agrees.

I shrug at them. “Nothing.”

“You haven’t said a single word in five minutes,” Gigi says, incredulous. “You literally just came in fifth place in your favorite dance competition! It’s all you’ve been obsessing about for like a year. I know you and Kenji only started rehearsing this summer, but you’ve been working on this choreography basically since last year’s competition.”

“So?”

“So you should be on cloud nine.”

“You should be babbling about how you’re going to rule the world,” Mya says in that mocking voice of hers. She always likes to bust my ass, but that’s okay because I bust hers right back.

“But instead, you’re sitting there staring at nothing. You’re not even on your phone. What happened?”

Shane doesn’t want me.

The confession is desperate to surface, but I clamp it down, pressing my lips together. No. I will not give Lindley the satisfaction of crying about him to my friends. Then it makes it real.

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