“So, you’re skateboarders then?” Brie asks, but I think she already knows the answer from our conservation a minute ago.
“We’re skateboarding fans,” Fliss responds. “But we don’t really skateboard.”
“I tried it but I don’t have the patience,” Daisy adds.
“Big fans then, to come out for the competitions and get VIP tickets, too?” Taylor pushes.
“Biiiiiig fans. Especially of you all.” Felicity’s eyes linger on Griff as she speaks. “See, I grew up in Summerside so even though I don’t skateboard myself, I know all about it. I heard of you even before you came to college at Summerside.”
As Fliss yammers on about Griff’s various career highlights, he attempts to maintain a neutral expression. The rest of us exchange looks that say, yep, this girl is red flag material.
“What about you, Daisy?” I finally get a chance to ask.
“Oh, Fliss got me into it. I’ve always thought skateboarding was cool and all but this is the first time I’ve watched a competition.”
I’m actually a bit disappointed Daisy isn’t sending off the same warning bells as Fliss. She even seems a bit aloof, like she’s just here as Fliss’s wing-woman. As we continue talking to the girls, I don’t notice Daisy paying me any special attention. Fliss, on the other hand, is basically drooling over Griff.
Did this girl fly overseas for this moment with him? The more she talks, the more it becomes clear this trip to see her friend was only a convenient excuse. If Fliss is the one who threatened Jordan, and sent pictures indicating she was following her, now what? Soon she’ll learn Jordan’s with me, not Griff, but does that mean Jordan’s safe?
Maybe Daisy had a thing for me back in the fall and got over it. But it’s hard to imagine someone threatening to take out Jordan’s legs over me and then losing interest in me shortly afterward.
I feel the weight of eyes on our group, which isn’t unusual, but as I take in the people at this party, some clearly waiting for their opportunity to talk to one of us, I can’t help but be suspicious. We might have found Griff’s stalker, but what about mine? Is she still out there?
Chapter Seventeen
Jordan
Just like last time I picked up Beck from an airport, I can barely contain my excitement. The only difference is that this time, I know it’s okay to show just how excited I am to see him. Sure someone could see us and blow our cover a few weeks before the contract is officially up, but who cares? At this point we can handle some speculation until we can make it official. The only thing I’m debating is whether I can get away with a kiss and maybe an ass squeeze.
My train of thought comes to an abrupt halt when I spot the person walking between Beck and Griffin. Felicity Bernstein?
When my eyes meet Beck’s, he’s smiling at me like everything is totally normal. I glance at Griff, who isn’t giving me the easy-going grin I’d expect. I haven’t seen him in seven months, but instead of opening his arms for a hug, he’s kind of cringing at me and shaking his head.
Uncertain what the hell is going on, I lift my hand in a dorky wave. Beck picks up his pace, and when he lifts me in his arms and twirls me around, I relax. Nothing can be all that wrong if Beck is giving me one of the greetings I’ve been imagining all day. Fine, there’s no tongue or ass grabbing, but we can get to that later, in private.
When he finally puts me down, I can tell he’s holding back from the good stuff too.
I turn to Griff, who’s looking a little pale.
“Hey Griff, you okay?” I take a tentative step closer.
“Oh yeah, just not feeling too great. Don’t want you to catch anything.”
“That sucks. We can stop at the drug store for some meds on the way home if you want.”
“You didn’t seem sick on the flight,” Felicity says, placing a hand on his back. “Did it just hit?” She reaches another hand to his forehead.
My eyes swing from Griffin, who really does not look himself, to Felicity, to Beck.
“Come on man, let’s grab our luggage and then we’ll get you home,” Beck suggests.
“I have my car,” Felicity says. “I can drive him.” She turns her attention to us. “I don’t know exactly what the history is here with you all, but maybe seeing you two together like this isn’t good for him,” she snaps.
“Uh,” is all I manage to get out.
“What are you talking about, Fliss?” Beck asks in a tone I’ve never heard from him. It’s kind of harsh.
“Well, Jordan, you can’t expect it to all go so smoothly when you play two best friends.”
As Felicity’s face starts to turn red, I try to shake myself out of shock and keep up with what’s happening here.
Griff takes a step away from her. “Whoa. She didn’t play us. I’m not with Jordan. I was never with Jordan.”
Felicity crosses her arms. “But did you want to be?”
My jaw drops. How does she know about that first week of my freshman year? It seems so long ago, irrelevant now. If I stop to think about it, Griff’s initial interest in me helped bring me and Beck together, but it’s not something any of us dwell on.
Griff narrows his eyes, regaining some of his color. He doesn’t answer her question. “What’s your Instagram account?”
Oh! As Felicity huffs, it finally hits me what’s going on here. Kind of. She’s the one who threatened me to stay away from Griff. Or we think she is? Beck places a steadying hand on my lower back as Fliss rolls back her shoulders.
“Not sure what that has to do with anything here but it’s my name, Felicity underscore and then my birthday. Do you want me to text it to you?” She starts to pull out her phone and ask for Griff’s number.
Beck interrupts her. “So you don’t know anything about the ‘future Mrs. Griffin Perry’ account then? Razzleydazzles?”
Felicity’s hand pauses for a split second over her screen before her eyes snap up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says primly.
The silence that follows might seem awkward to a passerby, but it’s more threatening than anything else. I’m just an onlooker at the moment, but I soak it in as the guys shoot daggers at Felicity, who makes a valiant effort to appear composed.
Finally, she asks in a shaky voice, “Well, should we get our luggage?”
When we’re finally alone in Beck’s old Jeep, which I borrowed from his sister, Griff bangs his head back on the passenger seat headrest. “How is this my life? Is this what it’s come to?”
Beck looks back at me from the driver’s seat.
“Is it wrong that I’m struggling not to laugh?” I ask quietly, feeling a little guilty. I mean, poor Griff, the guy has a real live stalker who actually followed him to London and got on the same flight back. She lives nearby!
“You think I scared her off?” he asks.
“How? By asking about her Instagram account?”
“Yeah, she knows we’re onto her now.”
“Maybe temporarily,” Beck says as he backs out of the parking space. “You could just see the wheels in her head turning though, and it freaked me out. She’s got some notion Jordan got between us. I don’t want Jordan on that chick’s radar.”