Page 48 of Rear View
The conversation with Sheila kept resurfacing in my mind and my stomach twisted. Was some other girl there, stealing his attention? Maybe one of those bigger, better people had come along. Pulled his intense focus. Maybehe liked the adoration. Liked when the girls screamed for his autograph. Maybe I was just a local convenience.
Bringing up a search engine, I entered his name. A series of pictures populated; X seated at one of those press tables where the microphones were stacked in front of him. X, sexy and larger than life in his racing suit as he walked, helmet in hand, toward his rally car. X in jeans and his team jacket as a stunning, fiery redhead dressed to the nines whispered in his ear.
I glanced down at my ill-fitted jeans, winter boots and coat.
A bitter tang seared my tongue. Ugh. I aggressively closed the browser, shoved the device in my pocket, then kicked a chunk of snow and sent it skittering across the ground.
“It doesn’t make sense,” Zoya said. “He pursued you so damn hard.”
I shrugged. “Until he didn’t.”
She frowned. “It sucks. He was just so…”
Sexy? Impish? Fun? Everything I wanted?
“Good for you.”
Tugging the end of my plaid scarf, I shook my head. “He’s out of my league.”
She grabbed my wrist and jerked me to a halt, then spun me to face her. “Thatis not true.”
“Come on, Z.” I pulled my arm back. “He’s got everything going for him.”Literallyeverything. “The best I can expect is to graduate and move away.” Ifhe’dlet me, but he had enough on me to hold me if he wanted to. Even if I left, for all I knew, he’d only follow me.
I just needed to finish my degree so I could get a job, money and independence. Not that I was short on alonetime, but I hated that Zoya was connected to it. That she had to check over her shoulder at night because of me.
“Don’t!” she snapped.
“Don’t what?”
“Isolate yourself. I know you, Ry. I can see it in your eyes. You’re shrinking away. That’s exactly what this asshole wants. You, alone.” She took my shoulders and enunciated her next words. “Do not give that to him.”
She was right. Problem was, I had no clue how to fight it. Inhaling deep, I wrapped my arms around her. “You’re such a pest.”
Her snort was loud at my ear. “You’ll have a life, Ry.”
“Thank you.” Pulling back, I pinched her cheeks, grandma style. “I have to head in.”
“I won’t be able to drive you tonight. I’ve got another late study session.” She winced. “I’m sorry.”
My chest constricted but I waved her off. “It’s fine. I’ll see you at home.” Turning away, I closed the distance to the psych lab and crossed inside. Professor Barlowe stood at the front of the room, unlatching his briefcase on the lectern.
Christian sat at the TA desk ten paces away, Chloe standing at his side. Her arms were locked tight over her textbooks, her eyes red and shining. His brows were furrowed as if he was angry…or annoyed. She spoke fast and entirely too low for me to hear, but it was clear they were fighting.
“Miss Nolan,” Barlowe called as I passed, the rigidity in his tone letting me know I’d somehow let him down. He adjusted his flat gray tie, then straightened it under his matching wool sweater vest. “You didn’t respond to my email.”
There were little more than ten years between us, but it could’ve been a century with his archaic structures.
“I must’ve missed it,” I lied. After the endless din of silence from Xavier, scheduling a critique session with Barlowe was bottom on the how-I’d-like-to-spend-my-time list.
His mouth thinned. Abandoning his briefcase, he strode closer, his loafer-style shoes clopping over the wooden floor as he went. “Is everything alright?”
I plastered on a smile so fake, it hurt my face. “I’m good.”
“Don’t lie to me, Ryah. It’s unlike you to ignore my messages,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Has that stranger been bothering you again?”
Lord, I hated that he knew. That I felt forced to answer. “It’s not that.” This time. “It’s just some personal things.”
“Anything you wish to discuss?”
