"I'm sure you are." She leans forward slightly. "I just know him really well, you know? We've been close for a long time. And sometimes he needs space, needs someone who understands his moods without taking it personally."
"And you think I don't understand him?"
"I didn't say that. I'm just saying it takes time to really know someone like Rush. He's complicated."
"Everyone's complicated."
"True, but Rush is...different. He's got a lot of walls and it takes a specific kind of person to get through them."
"And you think you're that person?"
Her smile tightens. "I think I'm someone who's been there for him when he needed it. Someone who doesn't push, doesn't demand things he's not ready to give."
The implication is clear: I'm pushing, I'm demanding, I don't understand him the way she does.
"That's sweet," I say with a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "But I'm not worried about it."
"Of course not. I'm sure you'll figure it out." She touches my hand briefly. "Just know that if things get hard or if he starts pulling away, I'm here. For both of you."
"I'll keep that in mind."
We talk for a few more minutes about nothing important, then I make an excuse to leave.
"Thanks for the coffee," I say.
"Anytime. We should do this more often."
"Yeah, maybe."
I walk out and I'm annoyed. Not threatened, just annoyed.
Ciara's playing a game and she thinks I don't see it.
But I see it perfectly.
The concerned friend act, the subtle digs, the implication that she knows Rush better than I do.
It's all calculated, all designed to make me doubt myself.
But I'm not playing.
Rush picks me up at seven and I'm still annoyed.
He can tell immediately.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Yeah, why?"
"You look pissed."
"I'm not pissed."
"You're definitely pissed."
I get on the bike behind him. "I had coffee with Ciara."
"And?"