“Then what could it be?”
“I don’t know.” Since we didn’t know, we devolved into wild speculation.
“I am fairly certain she is not trying to steal my identity,” I said after Sloane had thrown out this wild plot that was like something out of a spy novel.
“Well, I don’t trust her and I haven’t even met her. I never trust ex-girlfriends. You never know what they’re up to.”
“Or she could just be trying to send out an olive branch and be my friend,” I said, which seemed like the wildest theory of all.
“No, she’s definitely up to something,” Sloane said, throwing her magazine on the floor with a smack. “If being in fashion and working with a bunch of women has taught me anything, it’s that you can’t trust anyone.” That was true, but she was in a cutthroat business. Then again, so was mine.
“I wish I could talk to Lucah about it, but I think that would be a bad idea. We already dealt with the jealousy thing, so I don’t want to go back on that.” Although his way of dealing with my jealousy . . . I could definitely do that again.
“Yeah, that’s a slippery slope. It’s too bad she was his ex, or else you could just ask him to spy on her. Do his magic.” She wiggled her fingers as if she was casting a spell.
“It’s not magic. It’s just a lot of computer stuff and other things that he knows how to do that I don’t.”
“Well, you know what I would do, in this situation.”
No, actually, I didn’t, but it was bound to be something crazy.
“I’d hire my own personal investigator.” Yes, it was crazy.
“No. No way. That’s insane.”
“Why? If she’s really plotting something, then you could take care of it before it ever happened. Who knows? She could be plotting to kill you.” I definitely didn’t think she was out to kill me, but all this talking with Sloane was making me more paranoid. This had been a bad idea.
“Okay, we’re not going to talk about this any more, and we never talked about it in the first place. There. Done. The end.” I picked up one of the magazines and pretended to read it.
“Fine. Whatever you say.” Sloane joined me and picked up the magazine she’d dropped earlier. “But I warned you.”
“Shut up, Sloane.”
20
I didn’t tell Lucah about Violet wanting to have lunch again. Part of me felt dishonest, like I should have told him, but then part of me thought that informing him of it would make it into a bigger deal than it was. After all, she was just a coworker. Having lunch with a coworker didn’t warrant me making a huge deal.
Except she was his ex.
I went around and around and around.
“What are you pacing for?” Lucah said the next day when he was cooking breakfast. I wasn’t even aware that I was doing it, and was completely humiliated when he called me out on it.
“Nothing. Just . . . nothing.”
Ryder came out of the shower in just a towel and gave both of us a little wave before heading to his room.
This was my first look at his bare chest, and I definitely didn’t believe him about the not working out. He was cut. So much so that the veins in his arms roped across, and it looked like he was flexing, even when he wasn’t.
Black and bold, his tattoos slashed across his skin, which was a little bit darker than Lucah’s, but he still had the trademark freckles that all the Blythe men had.
I wondered if Sloane had seen him shirtless. She probably had, and that was what had led her to go running with him and injure herself.
“Rory? Is something wrong? Is Ryder bothering you again?” Lucah whispered his name. I hated talking about him when he was in the apartment, even if he was in his room with the door shut.
“No, it’s not that.” I couldn’t tell him it was something at work, because then he’d ask, and then I would have to tell him. One of the downsides about working with your significant other. You could never lie about work.
“Then what is it? Come on, talk to me.” He left the stove and came to put his arms around my waist. A tiny voice in my head suggested that I pull him into the bedroom and have my way with him as a way to stop this particular line of questioning, but I ignored the voice. Sex wouldn’t solve this.
“I can’t tell you.” That was the truth.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s about Violet and I don’t want you to think I am being paranoid or jealous.” Love made you tell the truth, even when you didn’t want to.
“What about Violet?” he said as Ryder emerged from his room. Lucah had given him money for clothes, but he seemed to think the more ripped the attire, the better.
“Violet? Are we talking about that girl you dated in high school?” Ryder said, using his towel to scrub his head and dry his hair. Great. Now I had to discuss this with both of them.
“It’s none of your business, Ryder.” Lucah said, shooting a look his way.
“What did I do? I just asked a question. You don’t have to jump up my ass.” He went and tossed the towel in the hamper then came back and sat on the couch.
I couldn’t continue the conversation with Lucah now, so we both just stood there as the eggs started to burn. Lucah had to take his hands away from me to go rescue them and Ryder shot me a look over the edge of the couch.
“You two can still talk with me here. Just pretend I’m part of the couch.”
“Impossible. The couch isn’t full of holes like those jeans,” Lucah said, using his spatula to point at said jeans.
“Haven’t you heard of using your imagination? Mom and Dad taught you better.” At the mention of their parents, Lucah’s face changed, and a chill entered the room. The lighthearted banter was gone, and I felt like an intruder on a private moment.
“How—” Lucah cleared his throat and turned back to the stove. “How many pieces of bacon do you want, Sunshine?”
I spun around to face him, ignoring Ryder just like he wanted.
“Two is fine.”
The rest of the breakfast was quiet, and Lucah was so preoccupied that he didn’t ask me again about the pacing. We headed off to work, Ryder headed to therapy, and Lucah didn’t say another word until it was time to kiss me goodbye.
I could taste how upset he was on his lips, and in the way he pulled back so quickly. I wanted to grab him and pull his body against mine and kiss away his pain, but I couldn’t. This was something that couldn’t be fixed with a kiss. Not with a thousand kisses.