Page 155 of Forever Relentless

“Hi, Diana. I think I pulled something in yoga,” I blurted. “I know you’re not, like, um, my trainer, obviously, but I wondered if you knew how to fix it?” I flexed my foot in my sneaker. “It hurts,” I added lamely.

“Those heels you had on last night wouldn’t have helped,” TJ said, settling onto her couch. Now that he knew I was ignoring the fact he was here, he’d relaxed.

“You saw my shoes?”

“Hard to miss,” he gave me a smile that looked too oily for my liking.

“Yeah, the heels may have been a bad idea,” I mumbled. Hard to miss? What else had been hard to miss? Had he noticed I disappeared, and so did the middle linebacker?

“Let me check,” Diana said, moving forward. “This way.”

She was in a two-bed apartment, and I followed her into the second bedroom, where she had a massage table set up. She closed the door.

“You can’t call first?” she snapped at me. “Sit up here.”

“What if I’d been Mason?” I hissed at her, looking over my shoulder as I got onto the bed. “Why is he back? I thought he was persona non grata?”

“We talked.” She didn’t make eye contact. “He made a lot of sense.”

“It’s not my business,” I relented. “I’m not slut-shaming you, you know I wouldn’t, but you need to stop whatever damage you and Mason have going on between you.”

“I know. I will.” She pretended to look at my foot. “It’s just, he’s so sexy and sooo good in be—”

“Nope. Not today.” I hopped off the table. “Today is a car crash, I can’t add what my brother’s like in bed into my head.”

“TJ told me there were more posts during the night. Do we know who it is?”

Two days ago, I would have told her. But TJ Hembry was sitting on her couch like he lived there. Dressed in chinos and a polo, and the two of them quite obviously together? Not a chance.

“No. I know nothing.” I rolled my eyes. “Same old story.” I edged toward the door. “Sorry I barged in. I’ll text first next time.”

“Okay.” She pulled my arm. “Will you tell Mason not to . . . You know?”

I stared at her, hardly believing my ears. “You want me to dump my brother for you?” I asked her in a low, furious whisper.

“Not dump, we were never official.”

I walked out.

I think I may have said goodbye to Coach Creepy on the couch. He took far too much interest in my heels last night. Had he been perving on me? Or did I just associate every coach in that building as a number one suspect?

I walked around campus, and three times I tried to contact my brother, the suddenly elusive one. In the end, I went for brunch at a restaurant just off campus, which I’d been to once before. It was popular with students’ families more than just the students.

I was hungry. And still angry. And the best way to get over that was carbs and sugar.

I was enjoying stacked waffles with bacon, maple syrup, and strawberries when my phone pinged. Hoping it was Mason, I felt irrationally guilty when I saw it was Noah and a thrill of excitement ran through me.

Noah: Haven’t heard from you. All okay?

No. It wasn’t.

Noah: I know you’re reading my texts. Can you be the adult you tell me you are and answer?

I gave my phone the finger.

Noah: Mature

What?