Page 72 of Wicked Temptations
Riley took another long drink before studying me over the bottle. “You look like shit, Ash.”
“Well, thanks.”
She rolled her eyes and lifted herself just enough to peek over the top of my phone. I tried to hide it, but I knew she saw the screen and what sort of trash I was scrolling through.
“Have you heard from Jude?”
The question scratched that wound in my heart. I locked my phone again and set it down. “No.”
“Me neither.” Riley set the bottle on the table between us. “Not since the day after. He’s not answering anyone. Jonas tried calling him before and got sent straight to voicemail.”
“Maybe he just needs space.”
“Or maybe he’s being a stubborn idiot.” Riley leaned back in her chair and started fiddling with one of her space buns. “So, what are you going to do about it?”
I looked up. “What?”
“About Jude.” She said it as if it were obvious. Like the answer should be written on my forehead or up in neon. “What are you planning to do?”
“Umm, nothing. There’s nothing to do. He doesn’t want to talk to me.”
He never wanted to talk to me. If his friends and crew couldn’t get through to him, then I had no chance in hell.
She gave methatlook that suggested I should probably start running if I valued my life.
Thankfully, she seemed too tired to chase me around the staffroom with her baseball bat.
“Have you tried showing up?”
“At his apartment? That’s stalker behavior, Riley.”
“It’s direct communication.” She tilted her head, expression unreadable under all that white paint and fake blood. “Look, I don’t know all the details. You two kept whatever was happening pretty quiet. But I’m not blind, Ash. Neither is anyone else who was paying attention.”
Heat crept up my neck. “I don’t know what you think was going on, but—”
“You were fucking.” She said it flatly. Matter-of-fact. “Don’t bother lying because you’re terrible at it and I’m too tired to beat around the bush. I also don’t care enough to be scandalized.”
I opened my mouth, and then promptly closed it. I couldn’t seem to find words that didn’t sound exactly like what she’d just called me out for.
Riley leaned forward, elbows on the table. “Here’s what I actually care about. You’ve been miserable for three days straight. Jude’s injured and holed up in his apartment, ignoring everyone. And neither of you seems capable of doing anything about it except moping and making everything awkward for the rest of us.”
“It’s complicated.”
“It’s really not.” She picked up her water bottle again. “He’s a bit of a dick sometimes, and I love him and all, but I wouldn’t want to fuck him. Way too emotional for me. You did though, and clearly still do.” She held up a hand to stop me from protesting. “Based on Jude’s insufferable people skills, and the fact that we’re having this conversation at all, I think it’s safe to say you want something from him and either you didn’t use your big boy words, or he panicked. So what is it, Ash? What do you actually want?”
I stared at the table, at the scratches worn into the surface from years of performers killing time between sets.
What did I want?
“I want him to stop shutting me out,” I said finally. “I want him to talk to me instead of pretending I don’t exist.”
“Good. And?”
“Why does there have to be an ‘and’?”
“There’s always an ‘and’.”
I sighed and hated the fact that she was right. I’d been told she was smart—like, we’d have to start calling her Dr. Riley soon sort of smart—but I hadn’t expected her to be this socially perceptive.
