Page 50 of Playing Dirty

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Her expression didn’t change immediately.

But something behind it did.

Small shift.

Controlled.

Then she stood up slowly.

“Yeah,” she said. “Pretty much.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder.

Looked at me once more.

Longer this time.

Then:

“Try not to take it personally.”

And she walked out into the rain.

Leaving her empty coffee cup behind.

Nine

CHAPTER NINE

ROWAN

I shouldn’t have left it.

The coffee cup, I mean.

But going back felt worse than just abandoning it, so I kept walking.

Rain had softened into that annoying in-between drizzle that doesn’t fully commit to being weather. My hoodie was already damp at the shoulders by the time I reached the street crossing.

Mason Reed stayed in my head anyway.

Which was worse.

Because nothing about that café conversation had felt clean anymore.

Not him.

Not me.

Not the silence.

Especially not the silence.

My phone buzzed again in my pocket.

Serena:

you alive or did reed finally say something stupid enough to kill you emotionally

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