Page 47 of Blocked Score

A seed of thought sprouts in my brain. Is it possible that her last day in Chicago, she …

I shake the thought out of my head. Now I’m being ridiculous. Clutching at straws. I just told myself that I need to stop dwelling on that summer. The last thing I need to do is make up absurd scenarios in my head that lend me false hope.

I pull up my new text thread with Scarlett and send her another message.

Hey, just checking in since it’s getting late. You guys okay?

This time, text bubbles jump on her side of the screen. A sense of excitement mixed with relief pulses in my chest. Honestly, I should be ashamed of it.

But when her message arrives, and I read it, it’s only white-hot rage that shoots through me.

SCARLETT

Yo, this is Mike. Stop blowing up Scarlett’s phone, dude. She’ll reply after I’m done with her.

My grip clenches around the phone in my hand so tightly that it’s a wonder my screen doesn’t crack. A film of red coats my vision, my throat constricts, and my neck goes stiff as a rod.

Immediately, I press the call button. Before the first ring I’m already on my feet, pacing around, my free hand curled into a tight fist at my side, my knuckles itching to make contact withMike’sface. More than once.

Scarlett’s phone answers the call, but I don’t hear anything for a second.

“Who’s there?” I grit out, the words coming through grinding teeth. “If this is fuckingMike, I’ll …”

My ear is flooded with laughter.

Scarlett’s laughter. Loud and booming, a full-throttle belly laugh.

“Oh my gosh,” she chokes out. “You actually bought it.”

“Scarlett?” I ask, needing confirmation, even though I couldn’t possibly mistake her voice for anyone else.

“Duh,” she answers, still laughing. “Oh, man. You should’ve heard yourself.”

My chest loosens with a measure of relief, but I still feel edgy and pissed off. “Don’t joke like that.” My tone is humorless.

Hers, however, is swimming in it. “Go find a mirror and tell me how red your face is.”

“I’m glad you’re so open to weaponizing your roommate’s concern for a prank,” I grumble, salty enough to flavor an entire day’s sales of fast-food French fries.

“Aww, you’ll get over it,” she coos dismissively. I can tell from her voice that she’s more than a little tipsy. “Anyway, I’m staying over at Harper’s place. We’re here now. There’s no Mike, or any other guys for that matter.”

I should really be concerned by the amount of relief that sinks into my chest at that last piece of information.

She gives a little giggle. “I only just now saw all the texts you sent. I wasn’t checking my phone when I was in the club with Harper.”

Now that I know she’s fine and I have no reason to worry, I can see that Rhys was right. I was being overbearing. Embarrassment piles on my shoulders.

“Yeah,” I say, running my fingers through my hair and cringing at myself. “Sorry about that.”

“Nah. It was … nice. Sweet. That you cared enough to text that much.”

A light, thrumming feeling floods my chest.

“Can’t promise I won’t do it again next time you go out.” I know I shouldn’t be flirty with her like this, but I’m finding it hard to help it.

I can practically hear her roll her eyes through the phone. “Well, I can’t promise I won’t pull another prank on you if you do.” She giggles again. “You sounded like one of the men in my mafia romance books. Next you’ll be telling guystouch her and you die.”

I let out a chuckle. “Don’t tempt me.”

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