“She’s obviously trying to get him back,” Sloane said that night when I went to check on her. She was tucked on the couch with some more painkillers, a glass of water and a whole stack of fashion magazines, courtesy of Ryder.
“Really? I don’t think it’s that,” I said as I swiped one of the cookies off a plate that Ryder had also left.
“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.”
Twenty
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.