Page 19 of Rear View

Ryah

I stared down at my phone as I stalked across campus, heading to TA a class for Barlowe. I tried to keep my sour mood from owning my face.

“Nothing?” Zoya said as she trudged along beside me.

Dodging a slush-filled puddle, I rubbed the scar above my brow and shook my head. “Nothing.” Not from Xavier, anyway. Three days and I hadn’t gotten a single text or anything. I knew because I’d checked. Again, and again, and again. It was embarrassing really, the way I’d obsessed over him.

For a guy who’d given me his entire focus, he sure forgot me fast when I wasn’t standing in front of him.

But maybe that’s exactly what it was, out of his sight, out of his life.

He didn’t give off that kind of vibe, but my experience in the romantic realm was minimal at best, so it wasn’t as if I was good at gauging such things.

The conversation with Sheila kept resurfacing in my mind and my stomach twisted.

Was some other girl there, stealing his attention?

Maybe one of those bigger, better people had come along.

Pulled his intense focus. Maybe he liked the adoration.

Liked when the girls screamed for his autograph. Maybe I was just a local convenience.

Bringing up a search engine, I entered his name.

A series of pictures populated; X seated at one of those press tables where the microphones were stacked in front of him.

X, sexy and larger than life in his racing suit as he walked, helmet in hand, toward his rally car.

X in jeans and his team jacket as a stunning, fiery redhead dressed to the nines whispered in his ear.

I glanced down at my ill-fitted jeans, winter boots and coat.

A bitter tang seared my tongue. Ugh. I aggressively closed the browser, shoved the device in my pocket, then kicked a chunk of snow and sent it skittering across the ground.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Zoya said. “He pursued you so damn hard.”

I shrugged. “Until he didn’t.”

She frowned. “It sucks. He was just so…”

Sexy? Impish? Fun? Everything I wanted?

“Good for you.”

Tugging the end of my plaid scarf, I shook my head. “He’s out of my league.”

She grabbed my wrist and jerked me to a halt, then spun me to face her. “ That is not true.”

“Come on, Z.” I pulled my arm back. “He’s got everything going for him.” Literally everything. “The best I can expect is to graduate and move away.” If he’d let me, but he had enough on me to hold me if he wanted to. Even if I left, for all I knew, he’d only follow me.

I just needed to finish my degree so I could get a job, money and independence. Not that I was short on alone time, but I hated that Zoya was connected to it. That she had to check over her shoulder at night because of me.

“Don’t!” she snapped.

“Don’t what?”

“Isolate yourself. I know you, Ry. I can see it in your eyes. You’re shrinking away. That’s exactly what this asshole wants. You, alone.” She took my shoulders and enunciated her next words. “Do not give that to him.”

She was right. Problem was, I had no clue how to fight it. Inhaling deep, I wrapped my arms around her. “You’re such a pest.”

Her snort was loud at my ear. “You’ll have a life, Ry.”

“Thank you.” Pulling back, I pinched her cheeks, grandma style. “I have to head in.”

“I won’t be able to drive you tonight. I’ve got another late study session.” She winced. “I’m sorry.”

My chest constricted but I waved her off. “It’s fine. I’ll see you at home.” Turning away, I closed the distance to the psych lab and crossed inside. Professor Barlowe stood at the front of the room, unlatching his briefcase on the lectern.

Christian sat at the TA desk ten paces away, Chloe standing at his side. Her arms were locked tight over her textbooks, her eyes red and shining. His brows were furrowed as if he was angry…or annoyed. She spoke fast and entirely too low for me to hear, but it was clear they were fighting.

“Miss Nolan,” Barlowe called as I passed, the rigidity in his tone letting me know I’d somehow let him down. He adjusted his flat gray tie, then straightened it under his matching wool sweater vest. “You didn’t respond to my email.”

There were little more than ten years between us, but it could’ve been a century with his archaic structures.

“I must’ve missed it,” I lied. After the endless din of silence from Xavier, scheduling a critique session with Barlowe was bottom on the how-I’d-like-to-spend-my-time list.

His mouth thinned. Abandoning his briefcase, he strode closer, his loafer-style shoes clopping over the wooden floor as he went. “Is everything alright?”

I plastered on a smile so fake, it hurt my face. “I’m good.”

“Don’t lie to me, Ryah. It’s unlike you to ignore my messages,” he said, his voice pitched low. “Has that stranger been bothering you again?”

Lord, I hated that he knew. That I felt forced to answer. “It’s not that.” This time. “It’s just some personal things.”

“Anything you wish to discuss?”

Hard no. He was already too inserted in my life. I wasn’t about to give him more. “I’m fine, but I appreciate the concern.” Pulling my laptop out, I aimed for the TA table and tried to ignore the pounding headache that moved in fast.

“Why are you so weird about her?” Chloe harsh--whispered. “Just let it go!”

“Enough, Chloe,” Christian said through his teeth.

Her gaze flicked my way, and she straightened her spine, her chin lifting as she sniffed and swiped at her tears. “Answer when I text you this time,” she told Christian, then turned, offered me a poisonous glare and left.

Lovely.

Christian’s expression was sullen. Exactly what I needed. Still, they’d never been so…open about their fights before. And I was surprised, after pining over him for so long, how little it affected me.

I took my seat beside him, and he thumped the stack of exam papers down between us—235, to be exact. It was the first I’d seen him since my time with Xavier, and I hadn’t realized just how freeing it’d been.

“I got you a coffee.” He pushed it my way.

“Thanks,” I said.

“How was the rest of your weekend?” he said, his tone sharp.

“Great.” The days following, not so much, but he didn’t need that detail. His foulness oozed off him, so whatever it was he was looking for, I didn’t want a part of it. My week had sucked enough ass already.

“You actually end up meeting that driver?”

My brow furrowed deep. Stand tall, Ryah. Stand tall. “Yes, I did.”

He shook his head like he considered that decision a colossal mistake.

From across the room, Barlowe’s stare tracked between the two of us.

My jaw clenched, my teeth grinding so hard, they hurt. “What’s going on, Christian?”

He huffed and aggressively straightened his papers. “I’m worried, R.J. This guy just shows up at the magic moment you’re hit, and you what? Run off into the sunset with him?”

What the actual hell? “I think I know my own situation. I’m not stupid. We went snowmobiling as a group . Miles was there, for God’s sake.” I didn’t know why I explained myself to him, but I couldn’t help it, because the comment rankled.

He exhaled heavily through his nose and set his hand over mine. “Just don’t lead the guy on, okay? You’ve already got one stalking you. You don’t need another.”

A cacophony of emotions soured my stomach as students started piling in and I pulled my arm back. “That was cruel, Christian.”

The corners of his lips drew downward.

I opened my mouth to say more, but Barlowe cut in instead.

“Mr. Fellows,” he chided Christian, his stare landing on him before it darkened. “Leave Miss Nolan be so she can finish her work.”

Christian’s spine locked tight, face reddening.

I didn’t care if Barlowe had done it to help, or for a self-serving purpose, but either way, I was grateful.

Settling his hands over the lectern, Barlowe triggered his mic to start the class.

Twisting my wrist, I checked my watch. An hour. As long as class was finished on time, I’d be out in an hour. I just wanted to go home, be alone and hide. Hide from Christian. Hide from him . And hide from the crumbling hope Xavier had left in his wake.

* * *

The streetlight above the campus bus stop was out, making the shadows deeper. Darker. My gaze darted through the dim. No one waited with me—a blessing and a curse.

The winter wind was frigid as it cut through my layers, causing my teeth to chatter. Pulling out my phone, I dialed my parents. Talking would distract, make me feel less isolated. And if I screamed for help, at least someone would hear.

It rang once. Twice.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Mom answered.

“Hey.”

A brief pause. “What’s wrong?”

Leave it to her to notice. “Nothing, why?”

Another pause, as if she were analyzing those words. “You sound upset.”

I couldn’t tell her about him without making myself a burden. All that’d do is scare her. My parents didn’t deserve what I carried—a fear they couldn’t contend with—or control.

My eyes darted across those shadows surrounding me. “I’m just exhausted. The last few days have been a lot.”

“Is it your thesis?”

Sure. Why not. As good a topic as any. “I seriously cannot wait until it’s over.”

“Soon enough, and it will be. You’re almost at the finish line.”

Only a few months until graduation. Only a few more months.

“Your brother mentioned you both went out with that Xavier fellow from the hospital twice now.” There was a smile in her voice, as if she was proud.

The pang of disappointment that hit me had my shoulders falling, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her about his vanishing act. Instead, I brightened my voice. “Yep.”

“That’s so good, sweetheart. I’m happy you’re getting out again.” She giggled. “And it doesn’t hurt that the boy’s a looker either.”

“I heard that,” my father called in the background.

She laughed harder. “Miles seemed quite impressed, and you know how protective your brother is when it comes to you.”

He was, which felt wrong on so many levels. I was the older one. It should’ve been my job to protect him.