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Bridger

T he house buzzes with activity as I sit on the couch, staring at my cell like it holds all the answers to the universe. It doesn’t, but my fingers itch to open the campus chat app anyway. My thoughts are a jumbled mess of Holland, the messages, and the scene with Garret earlier.

Steele drops onto the armchair across from me with a bottle of beer. He takes a slow swig of his drink before speaking.

“So,” he says, his voice hushed so no one overhears our conversation. “You make any decisions about what we saw earlier?”

I force my gaze to his. “Nope.”

He arches a brow when I don’t elaborate. “Okay then. Let’s hear what she had to say about it.”

“She didn’t say anything.”

A faint scowl creeps onto his face, but it’s more bewildered than angry. “What do you mean she didn’t say anything? Like, exactly what were the words that came out of her mouth? Sheesh. This is like pulling teeth.”

With a huffed breath, I admit, “I didn’t ask.”

His body jolts upright. “Are you shitting me, right now? Please tell me you’re not just going to bury your head in the sand and ignore what we both saw this afternoon.”

Unsure how to respond, my hand rises to rub the tightness at the nape of my neck as I focus on the video game playing out across the screen, wishing it were possible to get lost in it. Even for a few mindless minutes. “I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just drop it for tonight?”

He shakes his head before guzzling down half the bottle.

“You do realize that you’re sleeping with the enemy, right?” There’s a pause before he continues. “You need to point-blank ask what the hell she was doing with Garret fucking Akeman.”

My jaw tightens. Even though I don’t necessarily believe it, I mumble, “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Sure, I am.” Steele leans forward so his elbows can rest on his knees. “Somehow I must have forgotten that Garret is a stand-up guy with nothing shady going on.”

I shoot him a glare. “What are you getting at?”

Steele shrugs, but his eyes remain sharp. “I’m just saying this entire thing with Holland started because you suspected her of being behind the messages. You spend a little time with this girl and now you think she has nothing to do with it even though she’s hanging around with Garret Akeman. Know what I think?” He doesn’t give me time to respond. “I think they’re both in on it.”

After everything Holland and I have shared, I don’t want to believe it. I don’t want to believe that her hatred for me could run that deep.

That she’s been lying to me this entire time.

Or worse, that I’ve been played.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter.

“Don’t I?” Steele leans back, taking another sip of his beer. “Look, man, I get it. She’s hot. She’s got that whole I hate the world vibe going on that you apparently find irresistible. But you’re not thinking straight. The messages, Holland Tate, and Garret Akeman are all connected. That girl is a bigger part of it than you want to admit.”

Sadness and anger twist together inside me, tightening like a painful knot. “She’s not behind the messages.”

“How do you know?” Steele presses, refusing to let it go. “Because she said so? Or because you want to believe her?”

My phone digs in my palm as I clench my fist. “Because I know her, okay? She’s not like that.”

Steele snorts. “You force her to spend a little time with you, and your attitude where she’s concerned does a total turn around. I don’t know if that girl has a unicorn pussy or what, but you’re blinded by whatever this thing is between you two.”

Unable to sit here for another minute and listen to him, I rise to my feet. “You don’t know her like I do.”

“And you don’t know her like you think you do,” Steele counters, his tone softer but still pointed. “I’m just saying, don’t let your feelings for her blind you to the facts in front of your damn face. Hell, I’d love for her to be innocent. But if she’s not, you’re gonna be the one left picking up the pieces. You need to think about that.”

Instead of responding, I head to the front door.

“Hey, where are you going?” he calls after me.

“I need some fresh air.” My chest is so tight, there’s no way I can stay here.

“Want me to come with?”

“No. I just want to be alone so I can think.”

Just as I reach for the door handle, Steele’s voice stops me in my tracks. “Bridger?”

I force myself to turn and meet his eyes.

There’s a solemn expression on his face. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t.”

His head dips in a stiff nod as I make my escape. The moment I step foot onto the porch, I stumble to a halt before sucking a big breath into my lungs. The chill of the night air is enough to banish the suffocating sensation that grips me. My mind races, every doubt and insecurity bubbling up to the surface.

Once inside the BMW, I press the start button. The engine’s growl fills the quiet street. Instead of pulling away from the curb, I grab my phone, open the chat app, and fire off a quick message to Fragile.

Me

How do you let yourself trust someone when every instinct screams not to?

I hit send before I can second-guess myself.

The reply comes quickly, as if she’s been waiting for me.

FragileLikeABomb

That’s a heavy one to start with. Sure you want to go there?

Me

I don’t have a choice. There’s someone… but she’s different.

FragileLikeABomb

Different in a good way or a bad way?

I hesitate as Steele’s words echo in my head.

Me:

Both. Good, because she’s important. Bad, because that’s what makes her so dangerous.

Fragile’s typing bubble appears, then vanishes before reappearing. Finally, her message comes through.

FragileLikeABomb

Trust is always a risk. That’s kind of the deal, isn’t it? You put yourself out there and hope to hell it’s not a mistake.

Me

Yeah, but what if it is? What if it blows up in your face?

FragileLikeABomb

Then you pick up the pieces and move on. You’re stronger than you think.

Me

That’s easy to say until you’re the one staring at the wreckage.

FragileLikeABomb

True. But what if it doesn’t blow up? What if it’s the best thing that ever happens to you?

The best thing.

Her words pluck at something in my chest, and I rub a hand over my face. My throat feels tight as I stare at the message, the possibility of it gnawing at the edges of my resistance.

Me

You really think it’s worth the risk?

FragileLikeABomb

I think some people are worth the risk. And if you’re asking this, maybe they are.

Damn her.

She has a way of slicing to the heart of the matter like no one else. It’s equal parts infuriating and comforting. It’s the reason I needed to get her perspective before doing anything else.

My fingers tremble slightly as I type my next response.

Me

You make it sound so simple.

FragileLikeABomb

It’s not. Trust me, I know. But sometimes you have to take the leap and figure out the landing later.

Me

You always know what to say.

FragileLikeABomb

Not always. But I know what it’s like to be scared to trust. I’m still figuring it out myself.

Me

Maybe we both need to take a leap.

FragileLikeABomb

Maybe we do.

I stare at her words, my thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. She’s right. Maybe we both need to close our eyes and take that leap of faith.

Me

Thanks, Fragile.

FragileLikeABomb:

Anytime, Ice. That’s what I’m here for.

I sit back and stare at the screen, allowing her words to settle inside me. Only then do I pull away from the curb and into traffic.