The Girl Next Door

Mom rises to her feet when she sees me. “Are you all right?” Her brow furrows as she searches my face. “You look awfully pale.”

“I don’t think the enchiladas are sitting well.”

“Uh-oh.” She wraps an arm around my waist and steers me through the restaurant. “We better get you home before they hit.”

My lips lift. “Thanks, Mom.”

I lean against her shoulder as we push through the doors and into the bright fall sunshine. Only then do I suck in a shaky breath and force down all the emotions that churn dangerously inside me.

Beck was telling the truth, and I didn’t believe him.

I groan with the realization that I probably threw away the best relationship I’ve ever had. And there might not be a way for me to get it back again.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Mia

“You really said that?” Alyssa gapes before shoveling the last of my enchilada into her mouth. It’s been sitting untouched in the refrigerator for days. “To Dr. H?” she mumbles around a mouthful of tortilla, cheese, and chicken.

I swing away from her as she sits on the couch in our living room. “Yup.”

“Damn, girl!” she hoots, slapping her thigh. “You are seriously my hero!”

I tunnel my fingers through my hair and groan. Days later and I’m still reeling from the encounter in the bathroom at El Toro.

“No, I’m not.” I spin toward her again as I continue to pace. A mixture of nerves and nausea make it impossible to sit still.

My bestie shakes her head. “Are you kidding me? Everyone on campus has heard the rumors about Hayes. It’s about time someone called her out on her bullshit.”

“I’ve heard the gossip, too,” I admit, “but I never suspected there was any truth behind it.” I blow out a slow breath. “If I hadn’t seen it happen with my own eyes, I still wouldn’t believe it.” Which only makes me feel like more of an asshole because I sat there in the library and brushed off Beck’s concerns. Then I called him a liar and pretty much told him to fuck off.

“What are you going to do? File a complaint with the university?”

“I don’t know.” My teeth sink into my lower lip before worrying it. “I need to talk with Beck. He’s the real victim in all this. I’m not sure if it’s my place to say anything.”

“When are you going to do that?”

“I’m not sure.” I drop onto the leather armchair across from the couch. A mirthless chuckle escapes from my lips. “After the way I treated him, it’s doubtful he’ll ever speak to me again.” I lift my fingers to massage my temples. A headache brews behind them. “And I can’t blame him for that.”

The look she gives me is full of pity. “Yeah, blocking him on your phone and all social media probably wasn’t the best move. You kind of went nuclear on his ass.”

I wince.

Her assessment of the situation isn’t wrong. I have no idea if there’s a way to come back from this.

A soft knock on the apartment door has both our heads whipping toward the entryway.

Alyssa’s eyes widen. “Do you think that’s him?”

“Why are you whispering?” I glance at the door. “Do you really think he can hear us?”

She sticks out her tongue before jumping off the couch and jogging toward the door.

We’re both surprised when she swings it open only to find Colton on the other side.

I crane my neck to see what’s going on. Their voices drop, becoming hushed. Their heads are bent together as if sharing secrets, but that can’t be. Alyssa hates Colton with the passion of a thousand burning suns. I strain my ears to hear what’s being said, but can’t make out anything other than whispered tones.

Well, well, well…isn’t this an interesting turn of events.

I’m tempted to sidle up to the pair and stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.

When Alyssa shoots a furtive glance over her shoulder, I don’t hide my interest in their conversation.

Wait a minute…is Alyssa blushing?

That can’t be. The girl doesn’t have a bashful bone in her body. Not only is this exchange becoming more fascinating by the second, but it’s taking my mind off Beck and the disaster I made of our relationship.

She swings toward me. Her gaze darts around the living room, landing everywhere but on me. “So…we’re going to grab something to eat.”

“Really?” I point to the empty food container on the coffee table that she practically licked clean. “You inhaled an entire enchilada.”

“I have a big appetite.” Her eyes narrow. “Are you trying to food shame me?”

My shoulders shake with laughter. “Not at all.”

If it’s possible, more color seeps into her cheeks.

Damn, but I really need to find out what’s going on between them. Because obviously something is. And the bitch hasn’t mentioned one word.

Looks like I’m not the only one keeping secrets.