Looking to Score(49)

I cradled my head in my hands. Was she right? Was that what all of this was about? I really needed to call my psychic for a tarot reading.

My phone buzzed, and I saw Oakley’s name. Without thinking, I picked up my phone and threw it across the room, not caring if it was completely destroyed. I didn’t need it, and I didn’t need Oakley either. Shelby looked at me, a little surprised, but mostly calm.

“Amanda?” she asked, going back to her more cautious approach. “It’s okay. You are going to be okay.” She came and sat on the floor right in front of me in what I now knew was the lotus pose, her legs crossed with her toes on her thighs.

“Take a deep breath with me,” she said when I didn’t respond. “Breathe in through your nose and breathe out slowly through your mouth.”

I followed along with her breathing exercises, and she led me through some basic stretching poses until I did actually start to feel better. Or at least more grounded. I couldn’t change what I did in California, and I couldn’t change what happened last night. The only thing I could change is how I react to it. I learned that from my favorite manifestation video.

“Thank you for being there for me, Shelby,” I said, my heart absolutely overflowing with love for her. One minute I was raging, the next I was giggling, and now I was about to start ugly crying over how much I loved my roommate. Emotional trauma is weird. Thank Zeus Shelby was so understanding, and also the only one who was seeing me like this.

Just as I was getting a handle on myself enough to go check the damage I did to my phone, there was a knock on the door. It started off slowly, but became louder and more insistent. Then I heard Oakley’s voice.

“Amanda! Amanda are you home?” he shouted.

Shelby went to the door to tell him that I didn’t want to see him and to leave. I heard them go back and forth before I stood up and went to the door.

“It’s fine, Shelby. He can come in.”

Oakley pushed past her and wrapped me up in a hug. I was surprised by the gesture. “I came over as soon as I could. Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

I turned away from him to stare at the cracked device on my floor. Okay, so maybe throwing it was a tad melodramatic, but I’m allowed to have my moments. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Dr. Haynes emailed me, and I saw the photos.”

I pulled fully out of his hold and looked up at him. I didn’t even want to know what I looked like. I was a sobbing, sweaty mess and hadn’t showered since last night. I just wanted a warm bubble bath to wash away the mistakes of the last day. “I told Dr. Haynes that I absolutely refuse to work with anyone else. I made Coach write a letter stating how well you’re doing. I also”—he paused to pull out his phone—“had every guy on the team reach out to accounts with the photos of us, and they offered signed merchandise to anyone willing to delete them. I think Dale has a date with a stage five clinger as a result of it.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. “Wh-what?” I couldn’t even process it all. “Why? How?”

“You cleaned up my image; I want to protect yours,” he said softly. He stepped closer, and I breathed in his scent. My heart was melting for this guy. I had him all wrong.

“I don’t even know what to say…”

“I’m sorry. I really like you, okay? Let someone else be the solver for once.”

I reached up, planning to kiss him, when something else crossed my mind. “Who was the girl hanging all over you last night?” I asked. The timing was bad, and I sounded like a jealous idiot, but considering I had a panic attack in the middle of a busy sidewalk, this was the least of my concerns.

“Uh, that would be you,” Oakley replied with a confused chuckle.

“No. There was a photo last night. Some girl was pressed all up against you.”

Oakley looked confused, so I instinctively went to whip out my phone with the evidence. My hands searched my pockets, then remembered that I had thrown it. Shit. That was stupid for so many reasons. I bent over to pick up my phone and found that it still worked, the screen was just cracked. At least something was going my way tonight.

I navigated to the photo and held my phone up to his face. “This girl. Who is she? Why is she kissing you?” Why did I sound so damn jealous? I was going to blame the shrillness in my voice on my roller coaster of a night.

Oakley looked at the picture and laughed. Was this man trying to get murdered tonight?

“What the hell is so funny?” I snapped.

“One, you’re insanely cute when you are jealous. Two, she was just a random drunk girl. Her friends dared her to come get a picture with me. I overheard them telling her to pinch my butt, so I made sure to keep it out of grabbing range. I thought she was just going to give me a hug, but she went in to kiss my cheek at the last second.”

Oh. Okay. I felt really dumb.

I folded myself back into his chest. “Oakley? Can you stay with me tonight?”

“Anything for you, Solver,” he said as he easily scooped me up and carried me to bed.





22





I could count off the top of my head three conversations that made me cringe.

The first conversation was when my mother told me about sex. I was eleven years old and had gotten my first period during a math test. I was wearing white jeans like the badass middle schooler I was. The entire class knew, and when I got home, my mother threw me a period party.