Chapter 82 That Isn’t Me
That Isn't Me
Tessa
Maisie didn't look happy. "He never came home. And he made his friend lie about it."
We were sitting together on the sofa, and I'd never seen her look so sad, which of course made me feel incredibly guilty, considering I'd been happily gone for the past two nights – no, three nights if I counted that unfortunate night in the recliner.
But it's not like I'd been completely out of touch. I had texted Maisie so she wouldn't worry. But I'd been so caught up with everything else that the time had passed in a blur.
When I wasn't at the coffee shop, I'd been spending all of my time with Ryder, who was so addicting that I'd barely come up for air.
Come to think of it, this was the first time I'd seen Maisie in days, which made it tricky to process what she'd just said about Griff.
Home was the dumpy boathouse, which she had just seen for the very first time. This might've been nothing remarkable, except for the fact that while she was there, she'd overheard Griff telling a friend he'd been out all night – a night he hadn't spent with Maisie.
And the friend?
That could only be Ryder.
But no. That couldn't be true, because already I'd counted the days in my head, and the incident in question had happened barely an hour before Ryder and I had left Mackinac Island for our movie date.
The timing wasn't quite impossible, but it still beggared belief. Ryder surely would've mentioned it. Right? And yet, I heard myself ask, "Which friend?"
She eyed me like the answer should be obvious. "Ryder."
What? It made no sense. "But how would he know that Griff never came home?" Again, I consulted a mental calendar. The night Griff was missing would've been the night before our movie date, when Ryder had called me sounding buzzed.
Maisie grimaced. "Oh, you're gonna love this. Apparently, Ryder was crashing there for the night."
If so, this was news to me. "You don't mean in that dumpy apartment?"
Maisie nodded. "That's exactly where I mean."
"But why would he do that?"
"You mean Ryder? Heck if I know." Maisie shrugged. "But he said something about whiskey, which I guess makes sense."
In hindsight, it made sense to me, but why would it make sense to Maisie? "What do you mean?"
She made a face. "You'd need to be drunk to stay there. And seriously, why would Griff be living there at all?"
By now, I felt nearly too muddled to think. With an awkward laugh, I said, "Probably because of the bet."
On the sofa, Maisie grew very still, like the ground had shifted beneath her.
I asked, "What's wrong?"
"I'm just wondering how you know about it – the bet, I mean."
I froze. Oh, crap. I'd promised Ryder that I'd keep those details just between us. And I surely would've, if only I hadn't been so muddled. Desperately, I tried to backpedal. "Didn't you just mention it?"
Her mouth tightened. "No. I didn't."
By now, I could hardly meet her eyes. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Oh. Well…" I tried for a casual shrug. "I'm thinking…Ryder might've mentioned it?" I said it like I'd just happened to pass him on the street – and not like I'd been sleeping naked in his arms.
Maisie was still giving me that look. "So you talked to Ryder? When? And where?"
Damn it. I was so busted. But like a cornered idiot, I gamely continued on. "I dunno…maybe at the coffee shop? Whenever?"
On Maisie's face, I saw suspicion morph into anger before she asked in a tight voice, "And where were you that night?"
I blinked. Surely, she didn't mean the night Griff was missing?
Except she obviously did, which meant…What the hell? I sat back, feeling like I'd been slapped. "What are you implying? That I was the one with Griff?"
"What?" She paused for a beat too long, before muttering, "I never said that."
Sure, she hadn't said it outright, but the gist was pretty clear. I said, "But you were thinking it."
She didn't even bother to deny it.
I stared in disbelief. "So that's what you think? That he was with me?"
"No. Of course not." But then she ruined it by mumbling, "Not really."
"Not really?" I was thunderstruck. "What does that mean?"
"I dunno…" Her chin lifted. "Maybe I'm sick of the secrets."
"Whose? Mine?"
With a sigh, she threw up her hands. "Everyone's. And yeah, including yours."
Unbelievable. Maisie was probably the nicest person I'd ever met. And there she was, accusing me of sleeping with her guy – as if I'd ever consider such a thing. Something inside me snapped. "Alright. You wanna hear a secret?"
She gave a jerky nod, like she was waiting for me to confess.
It felt like the final straw. "Okay, here's a big one." My voice rose just a little. "I don't want to sleep with your boyfriend."
"But we never – "
"I don't care if it was official or not. He was your guy, not mine. And I would never do that."
"I never said – "
"And you wanna know why?"
She gave a visible swallow. "Why?"
"Two reasons." I held up a finger. "Reason number one. That isn't me. It never has been." I held up a second finger. "Reason number two. Even if I were that type of person, which I'm definitely not, I thought you and I were friends."
But apparently not.
And now, my heart was breaking just a little. Abruptly, I stood.
On the sofa, Maisie looked as miserable as I felt. "Tessa – "
"Just stop it," I said. "And as far as Griff, the guy's crazy about you. That's beyond obvious. So, maybe instead of asking me where I was, you should ask him." With a choked little sound, I turned and stalked away, heading up the stairs to my bedroom, where I planned to take my own advice.
The way it sounded, there was a lot Ryder wasn't telling me.
I didn't know what or why, but I was damned determined to find out.