Page 32 of Crossed Up

It’s gotta be the pants.

“Slow down there on the labels, Wren. We literally haven’t even started our first date. And what if it’s terrible? Then we have to try and pretend it never happened and go back to being reluctant boss and employee for Crew’s sake.”

My best friend gasps dramatically, clutching perfectly manicured hands to her chest. “Don’t say that. You’ll jinx it!”

“What’s the new girl going to jinx?” Brandy, one of the wives, pops up like a dang jack in the box next to us, startling a squeak out of me.

Her blonde hair is professionally highlighted and styled, and her makeup expertly applied. Her outfit looks to be designer, and the handbag she’s sporting is worth more than a used car. Or it would be if it was real.

Wren flips a switch, her once happy smile turning a little sharper. “Oh, nothing,” she laughs lightly, waving the other woman off. “We were just talking about an exam she still doesn’t have the results for yet.”

Brandy’s obviously fake smile falls slightly at the fabricated story, the glint leaving her eyes as her over-filled lips pull up into a sneer. “Oh, well then. I’m sure it was fine! Never would have guessed Aidan was so desperate for company that he’d stoop to high school jailbait.” She flicks my hair that I threaded into a loose braid during the seventh-inning stretch.

A scoff of indignation leaves Wren’s lips, but I hold my hand out, trying to reassure her with my eyes that I could handle it. I may have been sheltered from boys growing up, but I sure as hell wasn’t sheltered from spoiled rich bitches. Slapping on my tried and true “I know something you don’t” grin, I rest my chin in my hand.

“Oh dear,” I sigh sadly, returning her gesture and playing with a strand of her pin-straight hair. “I know it’s hard to believe, but some of us are blessed with excellent genetics and don’t need filler or highlights to look younger. I can tell it’s hard for you to watch a younger woman encroach on what you seem to think is your territory, but don’t let a twenty-something threaten you so much that you insult one of your husband’s teammates, darling. It’s not a good look.”

She gasps, a look of indignation shining in her eyes. But before she can speak, I lean in close enough to smell the Chanel on her collar. “And hey, I have a friend at Dior if you’re interested! She might be able to get you a good deal on a sample piece, so you don’t have to keep carrying around a fake bag,” I whisper, flicking the tassel on her purse.

Brandy stomps off after emitting a quiet scream of frustration, and normally I would laugh but instead, guilt slithers around my stomach and wraps it in a vice.

I promised myself when I left Maryland that I was leaving that life and the person I was behind, but one negative word about Aidan and I slipped right back into that skin like it was made for me.

I don’t ever want Crew to see me be this person, especially after hearing bits and pieces about what his mom was like from passing comments Aidan, Rhodes, or Wren have made.

Loud clapping behind me yanks me out of my pity party and back to the present. I fight to keep my face blank as I turn around to see not only Wren staring at me with wide eyes, but Rhodes, Aidan, and who I’m guessing is Copeland as well.

Copeland is the one clapping with a huge grin on his striking face. He’s maybe only slightly taller than Aidan, but that’s where their similarities end. His hair is jet black and shaggy around his forehead but shaved on the sides, and his eyes are a dark emerald green.

With cheekbones that could cut glass, multiple facial piercings and dark tattoos on every inch of visible skin, he very much fits the image of the emo rock band leader Wren recently compared him to.

He clamps a hand down on Aidan’s shoulder with a loud laugh. “I like this one. Can we keep her?”

My date hasn’t stopped staring at me like I’m a stranger, and it’s making the vice around my stomach clench even tighter. I think I might actually be sick if he doesn’t say something soon. My cheeks heat, and in my quest to avoid eye contact at all costs, my eyes land on my best friend and her fiancé.

Wren is nearly bursting at the seams she’s so excited, and Rhodes seems to be holding back a laugh. Rolling my eyes, I send them both a mean glare, making Rhodes hold up his hands in surrender.

“Is it just me, or was that weirdly hot?” Aidan’s voice has me whipping my head around in shock.

He shrugs innocently at my astonished stare. “What? You defended me, and it was sexy as hell.”

The dam finally bursts, and everybody breaks into hysterical laughter at the bewildered look on their catcher’s face. I’m fighting off a smile of my own until my phone pings with a text message that drains all the blood clear from my face.

Bile burns my throat as I read the words on the screen, thanking my lucky stars we are out of the state and away from Crew.

Unknown

You looked so pretty on the TV today, darling, and so very close to home. We’ll be together again soon, Little Bunny.

“Angel? Everything okay?” Aidan’s concerned voice cuts through the static buzzing in my ears and I quickly block the number before deleting the text.

I clear my throat and force a smile. “Totally fine!” The words sound strained even to my own ears, so I swallow hard, hoping I sound normal with my next words. “So, what do you have planned for tonight?”

I can tell he doesn’t want to let it go, but the man clearly knows how to read a room, so he does, offering me a small, reassuring smile. “It’s a surprise, but you’ll need a jacket.”

“Oh my god!” I squeal into the microphone attached to the large headphones resting over my ears. “When you said I needed a jacket, I never would have expected this! What happened to being afraid of flying?”

Aidan had a hired car waiting outside the field’s staff entrance to take us to a private airstrip just outside the city, and he had me bundled into a helicopter before I could protest.

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