I wrinkled my nose of all the possible outcomes. But she was right, it was at least worth a shot. And if she said no, then I could focus on a plan B. “I’ll try,” I promised.
She grinned at me, but my attention was caught by the guy walking in behind her.
With a quiet little hiss, I sank down into my seat as Ryan Holston walked in and glared at me from across the room. I sank down even lower so Hannah was hiding me. “Don’t look,” I said.
Too late. She was peering over her shoulder to see what it was that had me shrinking into my seat. She whipped back with a grimace of understanding. “You ended it?”
I lifted a shoulder. “It had been two weeks.”
She gave her head a little shake that screamed disappointment, but there was no real anger there. Hannah had come to grips with my theory of love and romance a long time ago.
Namely, that I didn’t believe in it.
Sure, relationships were fine and good for some people, but not for me. For better or worse, I was my mother’s daughter and I refused to turn into her when it came to men. Maybe there was a time when she held all the power, but these days she was a desperate retired trophy wife. She’d spent the better part of my life flitting from one rich old guy to another.
My father had been husband number two and lasted only marginally longer than the others. These days he lived with his newer, younger, and don’t-tell-my-mom-I-said-this prettier wife and their new son. We talk on the phone on holidays and my birthday, but that’s about the extent of our relationship. For the most part, it’s just Mom and me.
My mom had raised me to be her mini-me—the real reason she spoiled me with her hand-me downs and the stylish clothes. She had high hopes that I’d land a man even wealthier than her five husbands combined.
Please.
As if that was my life’s goal. I had dreams, thank you very much. And while I knew there was such a thing as love—Hannah and River were one disgustingly sweet example of the stuff—I was perfectly content to wait to find love and romance and all that jazz until my career had been firmly established.
Hence, the two-week rule.
Because here was the other thing—I liked boys. I could admit it. I’d always been fascinated by flirting and dating and…yeah, kissing. I really liked kissing. I had career goals, but I was also a girlie-girl who’d grown up adoring teen boy bands and playing with makeup and reading every article Cosmo had ever written on how to catch your crush.
So the two-week rule was my way of having my cake and eating it too. I could have some fun and walk away without anyone getting hurt.
“He looks mad,” Hannah murmured as Ryan stalked past us. Several tables around us stopped talking as he passed.
“He’ll get over it,” I assured her.
Hannah did not look assured.
“His pride is bruised. It’s not like he’s heartbroken.” I stared at her, breathing a sigh of relief as Ryan reached his normal table with a bunch of other popular guys who thought they were God’s gift.
Like Jax Hadley.
I saw him over there. Whatever Ryan said, it had Jax looking over my way. His expression was bored. Blank. It was the same look he’d been giving me for two years now, almost like he’d forgotten how to smile.
He hadn’t.
I’d seen him smiling at loads of girls since I’d ended things with him. Too many, some might say. The guy went through girls like Kleenex. Flirt, make out, discard, repeat.
Gross.
I mean, I might not exactly have been a paragon of relationship virtues but at least I was a serial monogamist, not a player like Jax. My flings occurred one at a time, and with a proper ending in between.
Jax? He was a juggler. It was impossible to tell who he was hooking up with when.
“He looks sad,” Hannah said.
I blinked, tearing my gaze away to look at Hannah. Jax looked sad?
And then it clicked. Ryan. Right. We were talking about Ryan.
I almost laughed. Ryan was definitely not sad. We’d had fun these past couple weeks, but it was hardly some love match for the ages. He’d been pissed when I’d ended things this morning, but I knew without a doubt it wasn’t because he cared so much about me.
He just didn’t like being dumped.
Alphaholes like Ryan and Jax had egos the size of this cafeteria and they hated when I beat them to it, even though we all knew the end was inevitable.
I arched my brows in the face of Hannah’s pitying look. “Seriously, Hannah, enough with the puppy dog eyes. Ryan is not some victim here.”
She tilted her head down and fixed me with a challenging look. “You seem so sure about that. But how do you know?”
“How do I know what?” I asked, shifting to sit upright once more now that Ryan wasn’t trying to kill me with his eyes.
“How did you know he doesn’t really have feelings for you?” she asked.
Her voice was so plaintive, so earnest, so…naïve. I couldn’t help it. A loud laugh burst out and I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry,” I said when I dropped it, but my voice was still tinged with laughter. “I’m not laughing at you, it’s just…” I reached over and ruffled her long brown hair. “You’re just so cute sometimes.”
2
Jax
Ryan looked ready to tear this cafeteria apart when he reached the other end of our table.
It was hard not to laugh at him. I mean, seriously. The guy was beyond pathetic storming in here letting the whole school see just how upset he was that Rose had ended things.
The dude had no game. No understanding that it was all about perception.
Besides, the guy’s ego was too big by far. Had he really thought he’d
