Page 111 of Puck Me Secretly

I was the fool.

I felt vulnerable which I covered with indifference. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I want to.”

“I don’t need you to.”

“Can you let me explain?”

“Fine.”

Silence creaked between us.

My tone sounded brittle. “Thanks for clearing that up.”

“Lolita is only a friend. Who needs my support.”

What did that even mean? A friend. Is that how Max would describe me? As just a friend?

“That’s nice for her.”

“It’s not what you think.”

“You don’t know what I think.”

“I have a good idea.”

“And what is that?”

“Nothing good.”

This conversation was destroying me. “Enjoy your dinner.”

“Rory.”

“Good night, Max.”

I hung up and threw my phone down. I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes, willing myself not to cry. I didn’t even know what to think. Max had told me that he wanted to date me, but the guy was a notorious player. Should I be shocked that he left to spend time with the mysterious Lolita? What did she need help with? And why wasn’t he more open about it with me?

If this situation was as innocent as he professed why hadn’t he shared with me who Lolita was? If she was an old friend, like he said she was, why did it feel like he was keeping her a secret?

I forced myself to finish watching the movie and then climbed into bed. I felt exhausted, but sleep refused to claim me.

My phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was Max calling again.

“Hello?”

“How are you doing?”

I sighed. “Fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”

“Rory. Can you trust me?”

“About what?”

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