Page 30 of (Un)Rivaled

As the sounds blurred and my vision turned black, a sudden noise broke through my haze. The concurrent pings of an incoming text pulled me out of my spiral, and the room came back into view. I inhaled slowly, reminding myself of my surroundings: the receipts, computer, Dad’s old Rebels mug. Each slow, steady breath helped centerme. Eventually, my hands relaxed, releasing their tight grip.

I pulled the phone off the desk and found an unknown New York City area code had texted me. Curiosity got the best of me, so I opened the chat.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Hey…it’s Devyn.

Sorry. Don’t know if this is okay, but I got your number from Calla.

I couldn’t help but smile. Devyn had texted me. Jesus, this was ridiculous. You would have thought I’d just won the lottery with how that made me feel. But each step with Devyn was a battle, and her reaching out felt like my first major win since she’d come back into town.

Another text came in as I was debating what to write back.

UNKNOWN NUMBER

Never mind, forget it. Momentary lapse of judgment.

Wait. Was Devyn nervous? She was rambling, which was usually a sign she was. Maybe that shouldn’t have felt good, but I liked that talking to me affected her. I leaned back in my chair, my panic receding as I stared at her messages.

ME

Hey, Devy.

Glad you texted. What’s up?

As three dots appeared on the screen, I saved her number, unable to resist labeling it with her old nickname.

ACE

About earlier…I never thanked you for the offer

ME

You don’t have to thank me, but you should take me up on it.

That’s actually why I’m texting…

Does it still stand?

The house is yours for as long as you need.

Thank you, Gray.

Stop thanking me. You’re helping me out just as much.

Trust me, that’s not true.

Came back and found Calla and Theo in a compromising position in the kitchen.

There are some things you can’t ever unsee.

So, if you’re cool with it, can I start moving things in tomorrow? After I bleach my eyeballs, of course.

I stared at the chat and suddenly needed to hear her voice. Pressing her contact information, I brought the phone up to my ear and listened to the line trill.

“Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind already,” Devyn grumbled on the second ring. “I’ve already started packing.”

“Nah,” I said. “Just hate texting.”

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