“Yeah.” She grabbed her sweatshirt from where she’d left it. “That’s my research specialty. I’m a forensic psychologist, so I’ve spent years on the why’s, the causes. Now it’s time to put it all together and hopefully use the information for prevention.”
“Prevention.”
“Yes. That’s my ultimate goal. I was a Long Acre survivor, and I lost my sister in the attack, so it’s basically what I’ve dedicated my career to so far.” She pulled the hoodie over her head, her excitement about finally getting this program ready to launch making her ramble. “My program would focus on the isolation and insecurity risk factors and use a three-pronged approach to connect students to at least one mentor in the school or community, one older student with similar interests, and one extracurricular activity that focused on the individual’s strengths. Based on all the research I’ve done, I really think this could be a game changer.”
She turned back to Lucas, expecting that he’d checked out of her long explanation, but instead, he had gone pale and was staring at her. “You lost your sister at Long Acre?”
Her enthusiasm flattened at the catch in his voice. She was used to all varieties of reactions when people found out about her history, but Lucas looked downright shaken. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I say it so often now when I’m presenting my research that I forget how it can sound when I say it offhandedly like that.”
Lucas was still staring at her, stricken, but he managed to finally say, “I’m so sorry.”
She took a deep breath. “Me too, but I can’t change what happened.” The old memory flashed, a sliver of the moon shining, black metal, the sound click-clack echoing. She shoved the scene away. “All I can do is work my ass off to prevent things like that from continuing to happen. I need this presentation to go off without a hitch and then I can do that.”
“Right.” His stance had gone wooden, his fingers tightly balled into fists at his sides. “That’s…admirable.”
Admirable. She hated that word. “Thanks.” She’d made them both uncomfortable with the serious talk. Time to free them from this conversation and this confusing night. “Well, I better get going. I have to drive back to Long Acre, and it’s going to take a while with all this rain.”
“You still live there?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“Yeah. My parents wanted me to stay close, so I did, but on nights like this, I wish I lived here in town.” She cocked her head toward the locker rooms. “I’m going to get changed.”
He nodded. “I’ll grab your shoes off the platform.”
“Thanks.” She stepped forward and reached for his arm, giving it a squeeze. “And thanks for tonight. I know it got weird, but before that, it was fun.”
Lucas’s throat worked and his arm muscles were stiff beneath her fingers. “Drive safe.”
She was going to say more when she came back to retrieve her shoes from him, clear the now-foggy air between them so that the next workout session wouldn’t be awkward, but he was nowhere to be found. When she headed to the main entrance, her shoes and socks were by the door with an umbrella that wasn’t broken. Frowning, she grabbed everything and headed out alone.
When she got to her car and plugged her phone into the charger, the rain still pattering against her windshield, her phone dinged with a text message. She’d already messaged her parents before arriving so it wouldn’t be them, but when she turned over the phone, she wasn’t surprised to see Kincaid’s name.
How’d it go?
Wasn’t that the question of the hour? Taryn leaned her head against the steering wheel, replaying all that had happened tonight. How the hell was she supposed to answer that? Difficult. Fun. Scary. Sexy. Awkward. In that order.
After a few seconds, she lifted her head and typed the only thing she could think of that described it all.
Not boring.
Chapter
Ten
Shaw pounded his fist against the apartment door, his heart beating so hard that his ribs were hurting. “Rivers, it’s me. Open up.”
He’d tried to call Rivers on the way home, but his friend hadn’t answered his phone. He could be sleeping, but there was no way Shaw could go downstairs to his own apartment right now. He’d end up packing all his shit and driving away tonight. He couldn’t do that to Rivers, not with the business just opening, but right now, that felt like the only goddamned solution. Panic was crawling over his skin like an army of termites eating away at him.
When he knocked on the door again, it swung open, revealing his friend wearing a scowl and bedhead. “Dude, what the hell? Are you on fire? Because if you’re banging on my door like this for any other—”
Shaw didn’t let him finish. “You didn’t answer your phone,” he growled as he shouldered past his friend, making Rivers turn sideways to grant him entry. He headed into the living room, which was dimly lit by the TV, and switched on a lamp. “Shut the door. We need to talk.”
Rivers opened his mouth as if he were going to tell Shaw to fuck off, but something in Shaw’s expression must’ve tipped him off that this was serious. He scrubbed a hand over his face, probably clearing the cobwebs of sleep, and shut the door. “What’s going on?”
“Taryn.”
Rivers sank onto the bright-blue armchair next to his couch and turned off the TV. “Taryn. Things didn’t go well tonight?”
Shaw scoffed at the understatement. “I kissed her.”