Page 19 of Crazy Pucking Love
“Yeah. If Whitney hadn’t gone home with me, I never would’ve survived.”
I glanced around for his girlfriend. “Is she here?” As much as I liked Whitney, I was more interested in if Megan might be with her and Lyla—I’d seen them seated together at the game. That was the other thing about sitting on the bench. You had way too much time to look around at the crowd and notice the girl you shouldn’t be checking out looked extra hot tonight.
Before he could answer, Whitney walked up and wrapped her arm around his waist, which was answer enough.
“I’m going to go play some beer pong or flip cup—whatever gets me drunk the fastest.” If any night called for throwing caution and stupid goals to the wind, tonight did.
Hudson stopped me with a hand on my chest. “Take it easy.”
This was an unexpected role reversal, but right now, I didn’t care. I wanted to drown out everything, and it wasn’t like I’d be suiting up next game. With literally nothing going for me at the moment, I might as well take advantage.
In the middle of the beer pong game, right at the point I was missing a lot thanks to alcohol-induced double vision, Misty came over and perched herself on my lap. She kissed my neck as she ran her hand down my chest, and the attraction I didn’t usually have for her flickered. Weak, and definitely lacking compared to a certain blonde I was having a helluva time not thinking about, but for one night, I thought a flicker might be enough.
I’d punished myself for the past few months, and right now, I couldn’t clearly recall why. But surely months of celibacy was punishment enough for whatever, right? Besides, Misty wouldn’t expect phone calls and flowers afterward. We’d both walk away happy, and maybe that’d jumpstart my ability to get past all the old shit that kept coming back to haunt me.
It’d also make it a hell of a lot easier to deal with the guilt trip Jazmine would throw my way when and if I had to call.
So I stopped playing defense with Misty and switched to offense, curling my arm around her waist. “You want to go next?” I asked, offering her the white Ping-Pong ball.
She shook her head and placed her hand high on my thigh. “I just want to go.”
Chapter Eleven
Megan
Dane and I hadn’t spoken much the past few classes. It wasn’t for lack of trying on my part, but after so many one-word responses and grunts and what with the fact that he moved to a desk in the back of the room, I’d given up.
But as we walked out, I caught a glimpse of his quiz and the big fat D at the top of it.
“It was a tough quiz,” I said. He glanced down, frowned, then crumpled up the paper and shoved it into his backpack. “Dane, come on. There’s a test coming up, and you could obviously use a study buddy.”
“I don’t have time for a study buddy right now.”
I turned and placed my hand flat on his chest. “What you don’t have time for is failing a class.” I always hated when people asked if I didn’t feel well thanks to the bags that formed under my eyes after a few sleepless nights in a row, but Dane looked like crap. Cute crap, but still. “Are you sleeping at all?”
“I’m…” He looked down at me, blinked a couple of times, and finally it seemed like he saw me instead of through me. “Not much.”
“Let me help you,” I said, trying to focus through the attraction zipping through me at the feel of his firm pecs and his steady heartbeat under my palm. “I got the message about your stance on relationships, and I’m not going to turn into some clingy girl, I swear.”
He flinched, which seemed like an odd reaction, but instead of analyzing that, I powered through with my point. “But we can be friends, right?”
He pressed his lips together, and I fought the urge to reach up and run my hand down the side of his face. So there was longing, avoiding-clinginess vow or not. “Friends. Sure. I suppose we can be friends.” He ran his hand through his hair, and the dark strands immediately fell forward again.
The exhausted, defeated vibe radiating off him made a dull ache form in my chest. “At least late-night friends. The way I see it, since neither one of us is sleeping, we might as well not sleep together.”
A crooked half smile slanted his mouth, a hint of the Dane I recognized showing through the stress. “How about, if you find yourself having trouble sleeping and in need of a partner for your math homework, or even just in need of a good meal, you find me at the diner?”
A fuzzy lightness rushed through me, and I worked to control my voice so it wouldn’t come out in an excited squeak. “Tonight?”
He nodded. “If that works. Any night, really, though. I’ve been there most of them.”
“I’ll see you tonight, then.”
…
As I walked up the wide aisle of the diner, I picked up a sweetener packet from an empty table. I pinched it between my fingers and flicked it.
For once in my life, my aim was on, and the pink packet hit Dane in the back of the head.
