Page 13 of Revved up & Ready

She introduced my ex to the girl he cheated on me with.Kelee. Hanna and her boyfriend both knew Jared was cheating, and they still came over to our house, eating meals I cooked, without saying a word about it.For months.I’ve successfully cut every other tie between my ex and me, but I can’t exactly get Hanna fired for being the opposite of a girl’s girl.I wish I’d known she wasn’t a real friend before I helped her get a job on my team in the first place, though.

Fortunately, our manager joins the call, and I’m saved from trying to figure out a clever way to make it seem like I’m seeing someone without lying. I alternate between trying to hear what Cam’s doing in the garage and puzzling over the snippet of conversation I overheard.

It can’t be that. Not so soon.But who else would“so fast to get engaged”be about? Finally, I give in and pull up my ex’s social media.

My stomach drops.

A post from last night shows the woman he cheated on me with in a little white dress, and him in a suit, holding her left hand up to the camera. The caption reads, “One year down. The rest of our lives to go.”

One year down? We broke up six months ago. One year down. Is he serious? Were they already—

Evidently, I’m committed to hurting my own feelings because I keep swiping through the photos. They had dinner at that fucking steak place he loves, then he planned a surprise party at our old house—now their house—with all of my old friends—now their friends.

He didn’t even have the decency to buy her an ugly ring. It’s stunning.

I don’t care. I’m not upset. I shouldn’t care. And I don’t. This is me—not caring.

“Sadie?” my manager’s voice comes through my computer speakers, and I barely hear it over the pounding of my pulse.Wonderful. “Do you have any insight on the timeline?” he asks.

Fucking rushed. Sketchy as hell. Wildly inappropriate.

Since my boss likely isn’t asking about the timeline of my ex’s engagement, I give a canned answer about teamwork and balancing time between projects. It satisfies him enough to move on.

The rest of the meeting passes in a blur, my entire body buzzing with something hot and awful.Not jealousy. Maybe anger? Hurt?Ugh, hurt seems right.I hate that he’s still able to hurt me.

The moment the meeting ends, I click out before anyone can try and talk to me. Tears well in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.I don’t want to think about him. I am sick of thinking about him, and yet this—

Cam leans on my open office door, a gigantic smile lighting up his entire face. “Allie and Luke just left, and I wanted to see if you—Are you crying?”

“No, I’m sorry.”Dammit, looks like I’ll have to try for not apologizing on another day.“I just—I really do notwantto be crying.”

“Got it,” he answers cautiously, nodding his head. He glances around my office, and I realize it’s because he’s never been in here.He lives here now, and I haven’t even shown him around. I should— “You want to go for a ride?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” I tilt my head. “Where to? Just to drive around?”

“No, aride,” he answers with an amused chuckle. When my response is to stare, he adds, “On a motorcycle—with me.”

“Oh,” I answer. The image of his body splayed across the asphalt race track after his crash burns behind my eyes. I’ve tried to forget this part of Cam—the motorcycle racer part.Maybe the most significant part.“I don’t—motorcycles aren’t—”How do I explain this without offending him?“It’s probably not—”

He doesn’t make me finish the thought I’m stumbling over. “How about a margarita?”

“Right now?” I ask, startled by his quick change of plans.

He tracks my movements as a tear rolls down my cheek and I push it away with a fist. “Yeah, right now,” he says.

That meeting I zoned out of was the closest thing to work I’ve accomplished today. My screen has a flashing notification of a chat from my boss. My inbox is full of unread messages, and that doesn’t even begin to touch the project I’m leading. Another notification flashes—a chat from Hanna. The last thing I want to do is work today.

I could cross something off my list.

“I’m in.” I exhale a heavy breath, feeling lighter already. “Give me five minutes.”

“Can’t wait,” he says with enough excitement that I’m tempted to believe him, and then walks away down the hall.

Now, I just have to tell my manager I need the rest of the day off.I just have to pretend to be sick. Should be easy.I’ll just say—whatdoI say? He just saw me on the video call, so he knows I’m not sick.Although, not all illness is visible.I could tell him I got food poisoning.Seems too convenient. Or, I could say I have a migraine.But I’ve never had one before. Would he remember that about me and know I’m lying?

I type out a message.

Hey, sorry if I seemed off during our meeting. My head is killing me, and I was wondering if I could…

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