Stuffing himself back into his pants, Rebel takes his time righting his clothing and running his fingers through his mussed hair. It’s evident by the large smile he’s wearing that he simply can’t contain his amusement.
I don’t get it. What could he possibly find so damn funny? Does he just get off on making me squirm? After I’m dressed again, I stand back, arms crossed over my chest as I continue to await his answer. I watch as Rebel walks over to the wall and opens a panel to reveal a hidden doorway leading into a private bathroom. Standing over the sink, he washes his hands then rubs them down his flushed face to cool off.
When he comes back into the room, he retrieves his suit jacket and slips it on. Heading for the door, he motions for me to join him.
“Are you going to answer my question?” I ask him as he opens the door for me. I take a hesitant step through it, looking around for any sign of his receptionist. My face heats just thinking of what she must have overheard.
The feel of Rebel’s face next to mine makes me jump. “Holy shit, don’t do that,” I hiss, clasping my hand over my racing heart.
“Caitlyn left half an hour ago,” he informs me.
Stunned, I poke my head around the corner and, sure enough, the office is empty and half the lights have been turned out. “So...no one heard?”
“Not a soul.” He chuckles again. Pressing his hand to the center of my back, Rebel urges me forward. “When are you going to learn, pussycat. I’d never put you in a compromising situation.”
His words strike me dead center in the chest, and I end up just as breathless standing here, still as a post, as I was when he had me sprawled across his desk. As we stand waiting for the elevator to arrive, I look up at Rebel, studying his strong profile, and I can’t help but ask myself that very question. Will I ever learn to trust this man and, more importantly, should I?
Thirteen
“It’s too risky,” Annie shouts in my ear. “Let’s be smart about this for one damn minute and think, okay? What reason has he given you to trust him?”
When Annie called to check in this morning and see how things with me and “The Twins” was panning out, I confessed everything—the sex, Rebel denying having any knowledge about the photos, and my confusion over my feelings for him. I simply don’t know what to do about any of it.
“I don’t know, Annie. Maybe nothing,” I say, throwing my hands in the air. She can’t see the gesture, but it makes me feel better to do it anyway. Stirring a packet of sweetener into a glass of iced tea, I sit down at the breakfast counter and slump over it in defeat. “I just know that whenever I’m standing in front of him, I believe him. Then I walk away, and I don’t know what to think anymore.”
She sighs into the line. “What does this guy have, a magic wand?”
I laugh, thinking back to what Rebel said to me as I rode him in his office chair. “Yeah, it’s called a dick.”
“Oh my God, Joe! I’m about to be a mother, for crying out loud. You cannot say those things to me.”
She’s laughing, which in turn makes me laugh even harder. “Just how do you think you got pregnant, missy?”
“Hey, we’re not talking about me right now. So, this guy has a magic D. Is that’s what’s clouding your judgment? Did he poke your brain too hard with it? Wait! Gah, why did I say that? Now I’m picturing you going down on some faceless dude with a giant dong. Why, oh why, am I such a visual person?” she cries dramatically.
“Dude, chill,” I laugh. “Just picture Brody’s chiseled bod and breathe deep.”
“Well, that just makes me breathe harder, Joe. Man, you really suck at self-help talks.”
“Why do you think I’m always the one asking? Anyway,” I say, dipping my finger into my tea and sucking the drop from the tip. “What do you think I should do? Rebel wants me to put my trust in him, and I just don’t know if I can do that.”
“Well, you said that he claims to not have any idea about the photos or where they came from, right?”
“That’s what he claims, yeah. But they did come from his phone number.”
“Which he claims to have lost.” She hums to herself, thinking. “Let’s assume for a minute that he’s telling the truth. Is there any way that someone could have gotten a hold of his phone and sent you the photos then deleted them so he wouldn’t know about it?”
“Well, Rebel and I already thought about that, and I guess anything is possible. We did go on that trip, and I don’t remember him being on the phone at all while we were there. And he did share his apartment with his brother at the time.”
“And let’s not forget that landlord of his has a key,” she adds. “So assuming he left it at home, maybe that brother of his hacked into it and sent them to you. I mean, you are screwing around with brothers. That’s bound to stir up some sour feelings.”
“Yeah, Rebel thinks the same thing. It makes sense, but...I don’t know. You don’t know Ransom like I do. He’s sweet. I mean, the way Rebel talks about him, you’d think he was a total bastard, but he did mention before that he’s had some trouble with Ransom making a play for his girlfriends.”
The more I talk about it openly, the more I begin to doubt how well I know him. Maybe Ransom isn’t the nice person I thought he was. Maybe he is capable of causing all this trouble. But why would he want to hurt his brother like that? And why would he hurt me and then turn around and try to be my friend again? It just doesn’t make any sense, but I guess anything is possible.
“Anything is possible,” Annie says, voicing my thoughts. “Just don’t rule anything out. They could both be lying to you just as easily as that woman could be behind all of this.”
“So what do you suggest I do?”
“Well, unfortunately, I don’t have any easy answers. I don’t have any answers at all, actually. This is one hell of a clusterfuck you have going on,” she scolds lightly. “There’s not much you can do about that woman except watch your back around her. As far as this Rebel goes, though, I think you need to start with looking inside yourself and ask why you’re so drawn to this man, and then you need to ask yourself if you can trust what he says. I think if you can answer both of those questions honestly, then you’ll be off to a good start.”
Maybe Annie is right. Maybe I need to start small and get really honest with myself. I’ve been running from my feelings since the day I met Rebel, back when we were total strangers meeting for a quickie in a hotel room on scheduled days of the week. There’s a reason why that’s no longer necessary. A certain level of intimacy has been reached. The nature of our relationship has been turned on its head and reshaped into something much deeper and much, much more complicated. Add in all this extra baggage and drama, and it becomes a monster made up of doubts and insecurities.
Tired of talking about myself, I change the topic to her and Brody. “Enough about me. How are you and Brody coming along? Have you made an honest man out of him yet?”
“Ha! I’m just trying to figure out if the guy has an off switch. He’s like the Energizer Bunny, always on the go, always wanting to do this or that. Girl, I’m getting bigger by the day, and I’m lucky if I can get off the couch without puking my guts up first. Not to mention, my energy is in the toilet. Sometimes I just look at him when he’s finally zonked out for the night and thank the lord above for having mercy on me. The man is looney tunes, but you know I’m doing my best to keep up with him.”
“Well, he doesn’t have football anymore to run that energy off,” I remind her. “At the very least, he’s helping keep those pregnancy pounds down.”
“There is that,” she agrees. “He’s so good to me, though, and he does so much to help. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I would be lost without my parents—never thought those words would come out of my mouth—but they’re my parents, and Brody just has this...light about him. He makes each day brighter.” She sighs longingly.
“Annnd this just turned way too sappy for me,” I tease. “In all seriousness, I’m happy the two of you are get
ting along so well. I’m rooting for you.”
“Oh, sweetie, me too. Me, too.”
We talk for another hour, tossing around baby names and planning a future get-together. I assure her that I will definitely be there when the baby is born, and she assures me that everything on my end will work out just the way it’s supposed to. After we run out of things to talk about, we say goodbye, and I spend the next hour wishing I had stayed in Virginia. Then, I pull up my big girl panties and haul my ass into the bathroom for a long, hot bath.
***
On Saturday morning, I go out for a jog and end up running into none other than Ransom. He’s coming down the opposite end of the trail toward me in his loose fitting basketball shorts with his sweaty chest on full display, and I guess I asked for it. This is, after all, the same trail skirting the edge of campus that we used to run together. I probably should have found a new path, but my familiarity with this one led me to choose comfort over practicality.
“Well, this is certainly turning out to be a good morning,” Ransom greets me as he slows down, turns back around, and falls into pace with me. “I didn’t know you still ran.”
My head bobs up and down. I’ve never been good with talking and running at the same time. I just haven’t built up enough lung capacity to keep from getting winded yet. “Sometimes,” I force out.
“Well, it’s nice to have some company again. I got used to having a partner, so running alone has been pretty damn boring.”
I smile in answer, because how the hell am I supposed to respond to that? With my need to reserve every ounce of oxygen, we fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence as we continue our run. I love being out among nature in the morning, smelling the changing seasons in the air, and hearing the birds singing. It’s so peaceful, but inside my head is anything but.
Rebel’s warning to keep my distance from his brother is in my head, and I can’t help looking over my shoulder from time to time to make sure we’re not being followed. He would be pissed if he found out I was hanging out with Ransom after he expressly told me not to. Even if I told him it was by accident and that nothing happened, he would be enraged. Rebel is not a person who likes to be told no, in any form. So if he hears that his wishes were ignored, he’s going to flip.
But I’m not going to tell Ransom to go away or even to stay away from me. I just can’t be mean to a person when they aren’t being mean to me. It’s an in-the-moment type of thing. Even though I have my suspicions about him, I can’t just go around throwing out accusations. If I get the chance, however, I just might ask him if he’s the one behind the photos. I hate confrontation, but I can’t stand around playing victim. If he is the one behind it, he needs to know that he’s lost. I won’t allow someone to bully me to the point where I start and end relationships at their bidding.
And if it’s not Ransom? If it turns out that Florence has been behind this the whole time, then...I don’t know what. Maybe I’ll shave her head bald. She wouldn’t be nearly as attractive without her luxurious red locks.
When the end of the trail starts coming up, we slow down to a brisk walk and work on lowering our heart rates. Now that I can talk without getting winded, this is probably the best time to pose my question, so I go for it. “Can I ask you something?”
“Fire away.”
Shoot. I should have taken more time to put together a response to that. Ransom’s brows lower as he watches me struggle with my words. Finally, he stops in the middle of the path and turns toward me.
“Wow, this must be heavy, huh? Whatever it is, just say it,” he urges, not unkindly, which I appreciate. It would be infinitely harder to talk to him if he were being combative, which is still a possibility.
I’m usually only this nervous when it comes to Rebel, but I find myself twisting my fingers together, my nerves raw in the face of a possible argument that I should just leave up to Rebel. But I can’t. I have to fight my own battles. “Did you...shit.” Taking a deep breath, I shove the question out. “Did you take Rebel’s phone and send me pictures of him with his boss?”
Ransom’s eyes widen a fraction and he scrubs a hand through his soggy hair. Looking off into the distance, he takes a moment to digest the question. “Are you...wait. You’re accusing me of stealing from my brother? To do what again?”
“Send me naked pictures of him with his boss,” I say, forcing my voice to remain strong. I’m humiliated just speaking the words. It shouldn’t feel like I’ve done something wrong, but for some reason it does.
“Of him and Florence Townsend? Together?” He shakes his head and when he begins to laugh under his breath, it somehow manages to make me feel like an even bigger fool than before.
“I’m glad you think this is so funny, but I couldn’t be more serious. I want to know if you sent those photos to me.”
“No,” he says firmly. “I never sent you any photos.” Taking a step closer, Ransom clasps the tops of my shoulders and looks me straight in the eyes. “I never stole his phone and I never sent any photos of them together... because those photos don’t exist. Not in the way you think they do anyway.”
I feel my forehead crease as confusion and doubt begin seeping in. “What are you saying exactly? Do the photos exist or don’t they?”
“Oh, they do. At least, if we’re talking about the ones I think we are.”
“Okay, now I’m really confused.” Pinching the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger, I pray for the headache I feel coming on to stay away a little longer. At least until I have this all figured out.
Ransom extends his hand. I recognize the black rectangle right away—his phone. “Are these what you saw?”
Leaning in, I turn my attention to the screen and for a moment, a profound sense of horror strikes me square in the chest. All the images that I deleted and have been trying to forget are staring back at me. They’re all there. Rebel and Florence kissing. Rebel and Florence smiling into the camera. Rebel and Florence taking off their clothes and touching each other in a bed of mussed sheets. Rebel and...Wait.
My gaze flies up to meet Ransom’s. “That’s not Rebel, is it?”
He shakes his head, a small, sad smile playing on his handsome face. “He’s been done with her since the day he laid eyes on you.”
“But...you said...” I back away a few steps, remembering when Ransom told me about the nature of their relationship in the first place. She’s the one who sends him out on all those ‘business trips.’ Every now and then, she even tags along. He made it sound as if they were still going strong. But when I really think back on it, what did he really say? It was all useless conjecture wasn’t it? Those pictures aren’t of Rebel and Florence. They’re Ransom and Florence.
“I said you had to learn for yourself,” Ransom reminds me. “My brother is far from being a saint, but I’ve seen him change since he met you. We all have.”
“But you made it sound like he was cheating on me.”
“Based on what I thought at the time, yeah. But I know better now. We hashed it out and I can tell you now, my brother hasn’t looked in another woman’s direction in over a year. Like I said, not since he met you.” Planting his hands on his hips, he shakes his head. “Man, I never thought I’d be standing here saying this, but I was wrong. About you and me. You were right. We were never going to happen.”
“But the lunch and the flower...?”
“Just a friendly gesture.”
My brows furrow as I try desperately to sort my thoughts. What if I told you you’re not the first woman Ransom has done this with? That all my life, he’s tried to take my girlfriends. I hear Rebel’s voice in my head, and I take another look and Ransom. “So you and Florence...?”
“Were just having fun,” he fills in.
“Rebel was right. You try to date all of his girlfriends.”
He shrugs. “Can you really blame me? I can’t help that we both have the same taste in women.”
Right. Okay then. “So if Ransom didn’t send
those photos, then who did?”
Ransom’s gaze darts away briefly before coming back to the phone he still holds in his hand. “I don’t know, but I promise you, I’m going to find out.”
Great, more promises, but I have to admit that I do feel marginally better. I believe Ransom when he says that it wasn’t him who sent the pictures, and that helps add to my confidence in Rebel, too. What it doesn’t do is take away this headache that’s forming between my eyes.
“I don’t know about you, but I need a shot of caffeine. Can I buy you a coffee?”
“What?” I glance up at Ransom, brows pinched together. I must have spaced out for a second there. Shaking my head, I cut my hand through the air. “Nah, you can go on ahead without me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I need a shower, and then I have some stuff to catch up on at home. I’ll catch you later, though!” I say with forced enthusiasm as I begin jogging back the way I came. I need more time on the trail, more time to clear my head of this tangle of thoughts. All I know for sure is that I have to talk to Rebel.
Fourteen
“Don’t even think about shutting that door.” Rebel shoves his way inside my apartment. Apparently, I was right about being paranoid, because he was waiting for me when I got home. “What the hell were you thinking? Do you just enjoy pissing me the hell off?”
“Oh, yes,” I say with a mocking roll of my eyes as I walk off toward my bedroom and begin stripping out of my damp clothes. “I spend every morning meditating over what I can do today to piss you off. Surprisingly, it doesn’t take much.”
“Watch your tone, Josephine. You pulled me out of a meeting for this.”
“I didn’t do anything. You should speak to your informants about that. And for your information, you don’t get to decide who I do and don’t talk to, so don’t even think about saying it.”
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