Page 47 of Invisible String
She knows that’s for damn sure.
“It was nice seeing you, too,” he says.
“We should grab dinner before you leave. We need to patch up.” No, I think she said catch up. She licks her lips. “I don’t even have your number,” she says.
My body freezes, and I can’t even process the numbers he’s reciting. He is giving her his phone number. I’m the one fucking him, and I don’t have his number. He doesn’t have mine. She texts him because I hear his rough voice when he says, “Got it.” His phone vibrates on the bench. She walks up to him, hugginghim, and he returns it. She then leans to kiss his cheek. He doesn’t react as I hoped. Maybe push her away. “See ya,” he says as he walks out. She takes a second glance at him. She wants him. It’s obvious.
With a shattered heart, I step back into the shadows. The woman walks to her car with a pep in her step. I’m not a crier. No, I’m not, but I can’t help feeling overwhelmed right now. Like an idiot, I fell in love with Max. I wished for something that could never happen. The green jealousy monster inside wants to claim him, but you can’t claim someone who doesn’t want it.
Once the car peels out of the driveway and onto the busy street, I walk to my vehicle with tears in my eyes. I’ve never cried for a man, and I dislike looking weak.
“Rain?” Max shouts.
I wipe my tears before turning. “Yeah?”
He jogs toward me with one of his gloves on. “What are you doing here?” His brows go into a downward V. Did he not want me to see the woman flirting with him or simply not want me here?
“You left for a couple of hours. I was worried about you. I came to check if you were here.”
He examines my face. “Are you okay? Were you crying?”
“No, dust blew in my eyes, and I think I got sand in them,” I lie. He reaches for my hand with his wraps still on.
“Let’s go inside so you can wash them.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll do it once I get home.” I try to untangle myself from him.
His eyebrows collide. “Rain, you barely know how to drive, and with dirt in your eye, that’s a dangerous combination,” he muses.
He ignores my groaning and whisks me away into the gym, shutting the door behind us and locking it. He then points to the restroom.
Five minutes later, after calming myself, I exit the restroom. He peers up from unwrapping his hands. “Did you get it out?”
“Yup,” I answer dryly and with a snap to it.
He scrutinizes me from head to toe. I forgot I’m wearing a short skirt and a crop top. Let’s not forget high heels.
“Where did you go?” he demands, his voice hard.
“Out.”
“Out where, sunshine?”
I shrug. “To a cookout.” I don’t feel bad. He seems to know where I went. He was here withher.
“You went toyourprofessor’s cookout?” His gruff voice trembles.
I ignore him and check my nails for any grime, just to avoid him.
“I did.”
He steps closer until there is no space between us. “Is that why you were crying? Did he hurt you?”
“He did not hurt me, Max.”
“Why, Rainey?” His jaw tightens. “Why would you go? Do you have a thing for him?”
Venom slices through me. How can he ask this of me when he claims to not give two shits?
