Page 12 of I'm Gonna Get You Back
“You lost, Joshua?” Delaney asked, appearing at my side. She linked an arm with mine and faced Josh with that cold stare of hers. She was tiny, but her ballet physique made her rock-solid. Still, she looked too pale after that run, and I wondered if the fact that she’d eaten only a few french fries off my plate before practice was the reason.
Josh wandered off muttering to himself. Knowing him, this whole thing was far from over. I just didn’t knowwhy.
“Byeee,” Delaney muttered. She unlinked our arms and faced me and Reid. Her eyes bounced between us. Our wet hair and clothes. A suggestive smile spread on her face. “You two have fun?”
I could’ve killed her.
“I did,” Reid said, sliding me a small smile. Sweet Jesus.
“I still have to stretch,” I responded, just to change the subject. And for something to do with my hands and attention and racing pulse. When I finished, I pulled out my camera from my bag and panned the scene. The more footage I got, the better.
When I caught Reid in frame, his eyebrows sprang up.
“For the yearbook video,” I rushed to say. “Just ignore me.”
He narrowed his eyes, teasing. “Pretty sure that’s impossible.”
My flush was instant.
“Are you going to Kenji’s party this weekend?” Delaney asked Reid, I’m sure for my benefit.
Kenji was always having a party. Not that I was eager to attendanother one anytime soon, but if Reid went… Our gazes clashed above my camera, and I darted mine back to the screen.
“Um, maybe.” He flicked his gaze toward his dad. “I don’t go out a lot. I’m on a pretty tight training schedule.”
I lowered my voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “If it helps, Kenji’s is a strictly eel-free environment.”
He appraised me with something like amusement in his eyes. “I wouldn’t be so sure. They’re sneaky fuckers.”
I laughed, and that smile took over his face again. The first I caught on camera.
The first time I caught a beginning.
CHAPTER FOURREIDNOW
TEN DAYS UNTIL LEGACY BANQUET
@haikuforyou
Betrayal is a
thorn that lives under skin, an
awareness that grows.
I HAVE A PARTICULARLYbrutal training session the evening my phone explodes. Sweat is slick against the backs of my knees as I do the last set of hamstring curls my trainer, Jason, is subjecting me to. He’s beefy and bald and demonic.
And my only hope.
It’s taking everything in me to finish this set. To pretend like my knee doesn’thatethis.
It doesn’t help that my phone is buzzing incessantly on the ground beside the workout bench. I flick a gaze toward it, worried it’s Delaney. Hoping like hell it’s not.
On the next curl, my knee is hurting so much, a grunt almost slipsout. I glance at Jason in the gym mirror and notice just how closely he’s watching me. His face is serious. Like he knows something’s up.
I clench my jaw and ignore the pain. Running is a mental sport, and I wouldn’t be where I am if I wasn’t able to push past the limits of my own mind. Despite my buzzing phone’s best effort to distract me.
Jason adds more resistance to the final three like a proper dick, and I have to block out everything except for the quivering in my leg as I complete them.
