As dusk settles over the parking lot, I watch him disappear through the fog squatting heavy over the field. The field we celebrated so many wins in. The field where our unbreakable friendship was formed. I get out of the car and look up to the sky, knowing nothing will ever be the same between us.
Again, the mind can change what the heart thought it wanted—both unrelenting in their battle of wills—and right now, it’s my heart that’s winning the war, even as visions of a broken friendship swallow my thoughts.
As I head into Amber’s building I push through, knowing in the end she’s all that matters. All that’s ever mattered.
Fuck the heart, mind, and friends . . .
CHAPTER 21
Amber
IT’S BEEN TWO weeks, three days, and four hours since Ryder’s answered my calls, returned a single text. Two weeks, three days, and four hours since my heart started to beat with a sorrow I can’t begin to describe. I feel used, a piece of driftwood washed up on a beach. I trusted him, felt like we had a true connection. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I wound up being nothing but another Hailey on his list, the clichéd notch on his bedpost.
I hate clichés, hate everything they stand for, and now I’m one of them.
To make things worse, Brock’s become possessive to the point of near insanity, making sure either he, Lee, or one of his several counterparts—none of whom happen to be Ryder—escort me everywhere I go. Be it school, work, food shopping, or a visit to the local bookstore, someone’s attached to my side, their presence but a car’s length away from me as I try to live a seminormal life under my new routine. Caught in the undertow of something I know I’m being lied to about, the truth of what really happened that day at Brock’s condo hidden from me, I feel like I’m about to lose it, my sanity hanging by the thinnest of threads with every passing second.
“You have to snap out of this,” Madeline insists, her eyes a deep brown ocean of concern as she flops onto my bed, tapping my nose with a pack of Twizzlers. “I’m a little tipsy, so not only are you a serious buzzkill right now, but you’re starting to worry me.” She tears into the pack of Twizzlers hungrily, nipping one out with her teeth as she shoves one into my mouth. “No joke, I’ve never seen you like this, Amber. You’re depressed. Not your usual depressed either. It must be said that if we’re going to continue our friendship, I have to know what happened. For reals, chick. I want the deets on everything that went on. The deets I’m pretty sure specifically happened the weekend we were in Atlantic City. Anything ringing a bell here?” A grin quirks her lips, her Captain Morgan–tainted breath inches from my face as she rolls onto her stomach. “I’m no fool, Moretti. I know Ryder, I know Brock, and I know you. The three of you walking sexpots woke up the next morning looking properly fucked. I also know Ashcroft didn’t take anyone up to his suite because he left the casino to go running after you and never returned. Add a thick layer of awkward glances, sweaty foreheads, and Ryder unable to keep his eyes off you the next morning at breakfast, and whamo! You’ve got yourself the perfect recipe for one hell of a ménage à trois. Again, the deets, now, biotch.”
“You don’t think something’s up with the guys?” I ask, ignoring her inquisition. Taking a bite of the Twizzler, I stare at Jared Leto, who’s staring back at me from the ceiling. I bet he knows the answers to what the hell’s going on. “I mean, considering you and I have basically been put on house arrest the last few weeks, unofficial security guards glued to our hips everywhere we go, you’re not the slightest bit concerned that something’s going on? Something the boys are lying to us about?”
Madeline shrugs, her toe tapping the bed to the beat of Nicki Minaj’s “Pills N Potions” as she steals another Twizzler from the pack. “I’m aware they’re lying to us about something, Amber. But you know the rules. No questions asked.” Another shrug as she gets to her knees. Ass swaying to the rhythm, she dips her head, plopping a drunk, wet kiss on my cheek. “Besides, whatever lie they’re keeping from us is probably beneficial to our well-being. Why else would they take such extreme measures to ensure we’re cool?”
I dip my brows, shocked at her nonchalance. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. Why would I kid about that?” She slides off the bed, stumbles to her feet, and tosses her crimson hair into a ponytail as she crosses our dorm room, rummaging through her drawers. “You and I started dating our boys knowing what was up the whole time. We knew what they did for a living, how they made their cash flow, and the risks they took to acquire their dough. Why all of a sudden now would we worry or question anything they’re doing? Makes no sense. They’ve got us. They’d never let anything bad happen to either of us, so why drive ourselves nuts over it?” She pulls on a Hadley sweatshirt and slams back her fifth shot of Captain Morgan, her nose scrunched in disgust as she sinks back onto my bed, handing me the half-empty bottle. “Am I making any sense right now?”
“No, none,” I answer flatly.
She sighs, annoyed. “It’s obvious something’s up based on our newly appointed bodyguards, but that just means the guys are playing whatever’s going on safe. You should be happy, not worried.”
“You’re crazy. Absolutely bat-shit crazy.” I sit up and bring the bottle of Captain to my lips, the memory eraser sizzling my throat as I down at least three shots’ worth. “I’m not worried about us, Mad.” A fourth, then fifth shot as I shake my head, trying to catch up with her. “I’m worried about them. Whatever’s going on has to be bad enough that they have a bunch of idiots following us around. Don’t you see that? They’re in danger, not us.”