I thought I could wait her out. I was sure I could reel her back in even if I’d crossed her line. After all, she reeled my ass back in after she upended my whole life.
If I can’t stay mad at her, she shouldn’t be able to stay mad at me. I can’t afford to let her have that kind of power over me if I don’t have the same power over her.
It shouldn’t be so hard.
I know people. I know everyone’s for sale; with some people, you have to look a little harder to find their price, but everybody has one.
Riley might be unique, but she’s still a human being—with all the faults and weaknesses that entails.
If I want Riley, I may need to use a completely different currency than I’m used to. I can keep chipping away at her, but I won’t get far using the same ineffective methods.
A different sort of man might call it, cut his losses, accept defeat.
It’s not in me to accept defeat. “No” doesn’t really mean no; it means find another way.
Maybe I haven’t found Riley’s price because I’ve been making offers that work on other people, but Riley has different priorities. That’s why I thought she’d like the book; it was more personal, tailored specifically to her.
It’s not enough, though. I have to do more than make her want me. She has to need me. She might want me already—she’ll still say no.
She can be so fucking stubborn sometimes, but I guess I can be, too.
It’s not like she didn’t warn me. She told me she’d never forgive me for Valerie.
Most people don’t mean what they say.
Riley did. She meant it. Even if she could forgive me, she won’t let herself. She made her position clear from the get-go, and she will hold my ass accountable even if it costs both of us.
I can tempt her, but I can’t win.
Well, maybe I can, but not on my terms.
I don’t want to win a permanent spot in her heart by coming clean. She didn’t win her permanent spot in mine by keeping her word.
I wanted her desire for me to overcome all the other bullshit. I wanted her surrender.
But as Anderson tugs Riley close and she numbly leans into him, I realize I don’t have time for that.
If she sleeps with him because of what I’ve done, I’ll never forgive me, either.
Chapter Thirty Two
Riley
Sara ditches me to ride to homecoming in a stretch limo with Valerie and her friends Saturday night.
I feel a lot of ways about it. Hurt, most of all. Abandoned. Betrayed.
But also curious.
Will Hunter be in that limo? He’s obviously Valerie’s date to homecoming. He might’ve embarrassed her in the gym by turning his cheek, but that was before he realized Anderson and I were back together.
After that, he kissed her right in front of me.
Thinking about it still makes my stomach hurt.
I don’t even want to go to the stupid dance, but it’s too late to back out. I bought the dress and shoes, and Anderson shows up with a corsage. He looks nice in a burgundy dress shirt and black slacks, but I still think I’m gonna break up with him again tonight.
I know eventually I will have to move on and get over Hunter, but it won’t be with him. There’s no point stringing him along since I already know that.
I also still haven’t gotten my period, and just in case I am pregnant, I would prefer for it not to look like that’s the reason we broke up. I want to be good and single by the time I start to show.
What a thing to think about as I’m getting ready to leave for homecoming.
“One more picture,” Mom insists, following us out on the front porch.
I glance back at her. “You’ve taken enough.”
“Maybe by the car,” she says, grasping at straws.
I glance at Anderson’s silver Lexus. It’s a nice car, sure, but it’s not exactly a horse-drawn carriage. Looking back at Mom, I shake my head. “I have to draw a line somewhere. This is it. You’re cut off. You’ve taken enough pictures.”
She pouts. “But you look so pretty!”
“I promise to look pretty again sometime in the future, you can take more pictures of me then.”
Mom shoots me a dirty look. “Bite your tongue, you always look pretty.”
“We’re going to be late,” I tell her.
“I should’ve volunteered to chaperone,” she says. “I could’ve taken sneaky pictures all night long. Maybe I should sneak in…”
“Mom.”
Ray reaches out, grabbing her by the hips and tugging her back against him. Securing his arms around her waist, he says, “Don’t worry, kiddo, I’ll make sure she behaves herself. You guys have fun.” He looks at Anderson, dead-eyed. “Just not too much fun.”
I sigh dramatically, grabbing Anderson’s hand and hauling him toward the car. “God, you guys are so embarrassing.”
“We love you,” Mom calls back. “Be safe. Have fun! Text me if you need anything.”
Despite my manufactured annoyance, I can’t keep a delighted smile off my face as I drop into the passenger seat of Anderson’s car.
My mom is nothing new, she has always been there being her crazy self, but having a father figure to go along with her? That’s a whole new experience. I don’t hate having a protective man around to mean-mug my boyfriends and keep Mom company while I’m gone.
“Are you excited?” Anderson asks, noticing my smile as he starts the car.
“For the dance? No.”
“Oh.”
“No offense,” I say quickly. “It’s just, I was already a little worried about getting a bucket of pig’s blood dumped on my head tonight, and now I’m on homecoming court. That’s starting to seem a lot less far-fetched.” I glance over at him. “If they call my name for queen and the gym doors start slamming shut, don’t be surprised.”
Anderson frowns. “Huh?”
I wait a second for it to click, but when he continues to stare at me like I’ve said something strange—well, stranger than what I actually said—I frown at him. “Carrie? You like Stephen King, how did you miss that reference?”
“Oh. Right.” He shakes his head, checking the rearview before he starts to back out of the driveway. “Well, if you have secret telekinetic powers I don’t know about, make sure you use them to crush Hunter, not me.”
I shake my head. “It wasn’t Hunter. He was as shocked as I was when they called my name. I think it was Valerie. On the face of it, she hates me, so why would she want me to get the glory of homecoming court? But that’s emotional and short-sighted. She’s smart enough to play the long game. I just don’t know what the long game is. It really might be pig’s blood. Maybe she’s a secret horror movie buff.”
Anderson appears not to be the least bit interested in my theorizing. His tone verging on annoyed, he says, “I don’t think Valerie’s that bad. I think you want to think she is because she’s dating Hunter.”
I blink at him. “Excuse me? She ostracized Sara for having epilepsy—that’s terrible person material, and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with Hunter.”
“And now she’s taking Sara to homecoming,” he points out. “Shit happens. People get over it and move on. Not you, I guess, but most people.”