I turn to find Jessica watching me with knowing eyes. "Let me guess," she says. "Wyatt's idea?"
I hug myself. "Billy's never said so. But he came by last night too."
Jessica's smile is soft. "That man is showing you who he is, Kinsley. The question is whether you're going to let yourself see it."
My phone buzzes one more time. But this time, it's not Brittany.
Wyatt: Miss you. Finals tomorrow. Wish me luck?
Always,I text back.Come home safe.
The response is immediate:Promise.
I read it out loud to Jessica and we both sigh.
“That is so sweet.” She leans forward. “Are you going to tell him how you feel?”
“Billy? Nah.” I swat the air.
Jessica laughs. “No, Wyatt!”
"I don't know."
But I do know. Because once you say it, you can't take it back.
And I'm not ready to need someone that much.
Twenty-Six
WHAT KIND OF COMMITMENT ARE YOU LOOKING FOR?
WYATT
The Spokane Arena pounds with the heartbeat of ten thousand people hungry for eight seconds of man versus beast.
I should be feeling that familiar buzz that makes everything else fade to nothing. Instead, I'm planted behind the chutes with a phone full of talking points Kinsley emailed me yesterday, trying to figure out how to turn myself into some smooth-talking politician in boots.
My phone buzzes in my hand—a spam text—but holding it makes me think of Kinsley and all that she’s facing at home. I asked her to forward me those anonymous texts she's been getting, and the latest one came through this morning:You're choosing the wrong side. The Halloways will drag you down with them. Last warning.
My jaw tightens. I don't like being three states away while some coward’s trying to scare her off. She insisted she's fine, that it's just noise, but the messages have gone from warning to threatening, and that shift sits wrong in my gut.
"You look like you're fixing to lose your lunch," Jake says, dropping his gear bag next to mine. "Which is strange, seeing as you don't ride for another hour."
"I'm good," I mutter.
"You sure about that?" Jake presses. "Because you're holding your phone like it's gonna save your life."
"Maybe it will." I shove my phone in my back pocket. "Kinsley put together talking points to help me convince people to go to Gritstone for that party I told you about."
"Your girlfriend's doing your homework for you?" Jake's grin is pure mischief. "That's either really sweet or really emasculating."
"It's practical," I say, though the word tastes wrong on my tongue. Nothing about what I'm feeling for Kinsley is practical. "She knows how to present issues so that people care about them."
"And you're just the pretty face delivering her message." He goes to pinch my cheek, and I punch him in the side. He grunts and laughs. "She coming out this weekend?"
"No."
"Why not?"