Page 63 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“He hasn’t gotten to me. It’s just…” My shoulders sagged. “He heard what happened with Chad,” I admitted. “And he punched a wall. Allegedly.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s what happened to his hand?”
I nodded, chewing my lip.
“He told Holden he injured it playing football.”
“Because he’s a liar,” I muttered.
“No, he’s not. He wouldn’t have said anything if Holden and Mason hadn’t bitched him out about it.”
“He got in trouble?”Because of me?
“He was already on their shit list because of the party at my house. I don’t know why he took the blame. It was my party. My house. My responsibility.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Anyway, it’s further proof that Ridge is a good guy. He stands up for the people he cares about.”
“Maybe he’s always just spoiling for a fight.” That was the more likely explanation.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He only fights for the things he believes in. Like that time he beat up Scott Houser for making racist comments.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“It was in the cafeteria….” Her eyes widened, and then her lips tugged into a smile. “Guess who just saw your note?”
Oh my god. My stomach flipped. Now Ireallywished I could take it back.
Get a grip, Evie. It was just a stupid note.
What was I doing? Cowering behind Quinn. Sweaty palms. Churning stomach. I was acting like a tween with a crush. This was ridiculous.
I turned to face his truck, and as if he’d been waiting for me to turn around, his eyes immediately found mine. We stared at each other across the field, but neither of us made a move.
After a few long moments, he ended the staring contest and climbed into his truck. Disappointment punched me in the gut. He was leaving. I’d put myself out there and made myself vulnerable. Now he was just going to drive away and not even acknowledge my note?
I whirled around to face Quinn. “Whatever. It’s no big deal. I don’t care if he leaves.”
“He’s not going anywhere, Evie.” She was still staring at his truck. A slow smile spread across her face. “I think he’s writing you a love letter.”
I rolled my eyes. “I highly doubt that.”
She clasped her hands and rocked back on her heels with a smug smile. “He’s in loooove.”
“He’s not—”
“What the hell, Quinn?” Mason rounded the corner and threw up his hands. “You planning to work tonight? I hate to cut into your social hour,” he said sarcastically. “But it’s the dinner rush.”
“I’m coming.” Quinn flapped her hand at him, but she didn’t budge. She was too busy watching Ridge. “Just give me a minute.”
“Time’s up. You can’t just take off like that in the middle of a shift. Get back to work.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ugh. My brothers are slave drivers.” She squeezed my arm. “Keep me posted.”
I nodded and watched her chase after Mason, her blonde ponytail swinging.
“You’re the worst server,” I heard him say.
“I have a life, Mason. Some things are more important….”
Her voice drifted off as they rounded the corner, and I laughed under my breath, then sobered when I remembered why I was skulking outside the taproom like a freak.
