the way Roger’s breathing altered that he wasn’t pleased with her decision. He’d been calm and in control, at his persuasive best. Now he was impatient and frustrated. Fine, so be it. She wasn’t going to let him pressure her, nor would she be rushed because he was afraid of a confrontation with his mother. This was her life, and she was determined to take a long hard look before making a decision about the future.
“OK, if that’s what you want,” Roger said shortly. “I’ll tell Mom to go on ahead without you.”
She nodded.
He lingered a moment longer, his gaze boring into hers. “There isn’t any reason to tell Mom about what happened, is there?”
Gretchen almost felt sorry for him. “Why would I want to humiliate myself even further?” she asked.
He was visibly relieved as he turned and hurried toward the parking lot. As Gretchen watched him go, the knot in the pit of her stomach tightened. Needing to do something, anything other than stand there on the veranda, she moved down the steps and began walking. She soon found herself by the fountain, and with a heavy heart, she lowered herself onto the concrete rim. The urge to bury her face in her hands and weep was nearly overwhelming, but she had too much pride to publicly display her pain.
Most of the activity around the school had stopped. Graduation was over, and the majority of students had already left the campus. She was grateful for the quiet, a rarity at the university. She needed to mull over what she’d learned, to assimilate what Didi had told her, followed by Roger’s weak justifications.
Every time she tried to make sense of the cold ugly facts of his infidelity, distance herself from them, she stumbled over the pain.
Again and again, Roger had told her how much he loved her, how she would be the perfect wife for him. His insistence caused her to wonder if he was mouthing his mother’s sentiments, not his own. A man who truly loved her wouldn’t step into a closet with Didi Wilson. But at the same time, Roger was full of regret. Despite her own pain, she could sense his. He was genuinely sorry. She wanted, needed, to believe that.
One thing he’d said rang true. Didi had never made a secret of how attractive she found Roger. Nor had she bothered to disguise her dislike for Gretchen. It was probably that dislike that had prompted Didi to confront her.
Didi’s neck had been covered with hickeys so livid that no amount of makeup could fully hide them. She’d boldly walked up to Gretchen, looked her in the eyes, smiled and then casually asked her if she knew what Roger had been doing the night before. At Gretchen’s stunned silence, Didi had crudely asked Gretchen if she thought she was woman enough to satisfy Roger’s healthy sexual appetite. The question insinuated that she wasn’t and never would be.
The roar of an engine shattered the peace. Gretchen glanced up to see Josh Morrow speed across the campus parking lot on his Harley, a plume of dark exhaust in his wake. He’d been cited by campus security a dozen times, she’d heard, for driving above the speed limit, but it hadn’t fazed him.
Josh was a loner, a known troublemaker, a rebel. She’d spoken to him once months earlier, and Roger had been furious with her. In the weeks since, she’d avoided Josh, but that hadn’t stopped her from noticing him. He stood apart from everyone, watching, studying. The outsider, looking in. He hadn’t sought her out again, and she was grateful. She supposed it was natural to feel a certain attraction toward Josh. She suspected a lot of the women at Queen Anne did. Maybe it was the black leather and the motorcycle, the sense that the love of a good woman would tame him.
Now her gaze must have lingered on him a second longer than was prudent, for he eased his huge bike to a stop, placed his feet on the road to maintain his balance and stared at her. After what seemed an eternity, he revved the engine, then roared over the cement curb and onto the narrow walkway, directly toward her.
Gretchen stood, her heart in her throat. The last thing she wanted was company.
He pulled to a stop right in front of her. Lifting the helmet from his head, he studied her for a moment and then asked with surprising gentleness, “Gretchen, what happened?”
She stiffened, shocked that he had read her so easily. “Nothing.”
His smile was decidedly off center. “You should never lie, not when you do such a poor job of it.”
She lowered her gaze and rubbed her palms together. “It’s something I’d rather not discuss.”
He stepped off the Harley and lowered the kickstand. “Fair enough.”
His size was intimidating. He was at least six-two, maybe even six-three, almost dwarfing her five foot eight. She crossed her arms over her chest, wondering at his intentions. As if he didn’t have a care in the world, he leaned over the fountain, scooped up a handful of water and drenched his face.
He glanced toward her and chuckled, the sound low and teasing. “Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”
“I’m not worried,” she lied.
His soft snicker told her she hadn’t convinced him. “I don’t sacrifice virgins, either.”
“I suggest you don’t start now. I’d crawl off the altar.”
He laughed, but this time the sound was rich and deep. Ignoring her, he turned his face toward the sky, and his features glistened as the water dripped from his face. “Where’s lover boy this afternoon?” he asked.
His question caught her off guard. From his tone, it was clear that Josh knew about Roger and Didi. How many others did? Her face filled with a rush of hot embarrassed color.
“Who told you?” she asked, her voice low and trembling despite her effort to remain cool and calm. Between Didi and Roger’s so-called friends, the news must be everywhere by now.
“Is it important?” he asked. His words were soft, quiet, as if he feared saying them would increase her pain.
“No, I guess it isn’t.” Some students thought of Gretchen as privileged. While it was true her family had considerable wealth, when serving as the student-body president she’d crossed swords with any number who willingly tossed her background in her face. Her hard work as a communicator and volunteer, and her fervor for honesty and justice, often won them over. Until recently she preferred to think of her friends as many and her enemies as few. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Josh’s gaze turned narrow and assessing, which increased her embarrassment tenfold. She inhaled a quivering breath.
“Roger’s a first-class fool,” Josh said at last. “He deserves to have his teeth kicked in.”
While in theory she agreed with him—she wanted to see Roger suffer for what he’d done—her sensibilities didn’t lean toward violence. Roger had allowed the blame to ricochet from Didi to Gretchen and then back to Didi. Gretchen wanted to scream and demand that Roger accept responsibility for his own actions. To own up to what he’d done, instead of listing excuses meant to absolve him of any guilt.
“Gretchen!”
As if her thoughts had conjured him up, Roger was striding across the lawn toward the fountain. “What the hell are you doing here, Morrow?” he asked, arriving breathless, his chest heaving.
When Josh didn’t immediately answer, Roger faced Gretchen. “Is he pestering
