Page 23 of Crazy Pucking Love
As far as having only friend-like feelings, I was a long way off—desire coursed through my veins as I recalled wrapping my hands around her hips and the way she swayed them back and forth, back and forth…
There’d been occasional body brushes, too, every one producing another jolt of awareness, and it’d taken all my control to cover my attraction to her. I’d probably failed, though, because there was only so much I could do with that sexy body so close to mine. Thank goodness I’d come to my senses at the Quad before I’d done something stupid with Misty, because just dancing with Megan was better than anything I’d ever experience with anyone else.
Even afterward in the car, what started as joking and teasing had quickly turned heated, and multiple times through the night I’d had to remind myself of all the reasons I couldn’t kiss her; couldn’t cross into more than kissing.
Images from that night, the memory of her soft skin under my fingertips, and the sound of her laughter had followed me the past few days, and when everyone else slept on the plane rides to and from Colorado, I’d pulled them up to keep me company.
I’m in so far over my head, the ice has sealed up, blocking any chance of ever breaking free. And while I’m already drowning, I might as well forget that I’m trying to be a better person, and that I told her brother I understood that she was off-limits…
Honestly, I knew I was skating on thin ice when I agreed to let her be my math study buddy. I wanted an excuse to spend time with her, and it was definitely an excuse, because truth was, Ox was practically Isaac Fucking Newton when it came to math. My roommate could easily help me—I bet he’d even quiz me during and between reps in the weight room if I asked.
But he wasn’t nearly as cute as Megan, and he didn’t smell as good, and I definitely didn’t want to kiss him. All reasons he’d also make a better study buddy. I’ve always struggled with the right decisions, though.
Which was why I wasn’t giving up time with Megan, whether it was forcing myself to focus on her explanations about our homework instead of the way her soft lips formed words, or being “late-night friends” and exploring more of Boston together. Even if it meant I was playing with fire, daring it to burn me. She was the one bright spot in my life right now, and I desperately needed those moments with her to help me survive this semester, so I’d happily deal with a few scorch marks.
Holding on to the happy thought of more time with Megan, I returned my attention to the task at hand. I sucked in a deep breath and tapped Jazmine’s number.
“Long time no talk,” my ex answered, a sharp edge to her voice.
“It’s only been a few weeks since Christmas break.”
“I didn’t know we were counting accidental run-ins at the gas station as seeing each other. You bolted the second you could, too.”
Apparently we were just going to ignore the incident where I found her on the couch at a party a few days later, one long blink from passed out, a couple of assholes swarming and ready to take advantage. After issuing a threat of dismemberment to anyone who touched her, I’d carried her out of there and dropped her off at home.
Or maybe she truly didn’t remember. It wouldn’t surprise me.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and powered through, working to keep my voice calm. “I don’t want to fight, Jaz. I need to talk to you about Lissa.”
“What about Lissa?” Defensive already. Great.
Here goes nothing.“I hear she’s been hanging with you and your group of friends.”
“What can I say? We’re a fun group, and we know how to live it up.” I could see her in my mind, twisting a coil of curly, black hair around her finger. “Remember when you used to be one of us?”
Yeah, I did. Too often as of late, thanks to my little sister deciding she wanted to hang with the rougher crowd. Truth was, I’d done plenty of drinking and more dabbling in illegal substances than I should’ve, but kept more on the peripheral thanks to hockey and the fact that I’d rather hang with Hudson than any of the people in that group. I’d only occasionally hang out with Jaz’s friends because it meant being with her. Kept her out of several of the predicaments they found themselves in, too.
“Look, I’m just trying to make sure she doesn’t get herself into trouble,” I said. “I don’t want her mixed up in all that shit. Especially the drugs, Jaz.”
“Basically you’re saying you don’t want her to turn into me.”
Yes.“I’m asking you to not drag her into it. She’s got other friends. Let her go back to them.” I hoped Lissa had had her fun walking on the supposed wild side, and that if she had a chance to go back to the people who had her best interests at heart, she’d remember who she truly was. That she wouldn’t look for an escape in all the wrong places.
“You don’t get it both ways,” Jazmine said with a huff. “You can’t leave and still tell me what to do. I get it, you wanted out of here, and you’re out. But some of us still live here, and we’re all doing what we have to do to get by, just like you used to, remember?”
“Well, you sure as hell took it to the next level, didn’t you?”
“Fuck you, Dane. I’m over your disappointment, and I won’t let you make me feel bad about myself. You made your choice, so deal with it.”
Before I could attempt to smooth over the situation, she hung up. Not like I knew how to smooth it over anyway.
…
In my second iffy decision of the day, I decided to call Megan. While it felt like longer, we’d seen each other a couple of days ago, and I didn’t want her to get the wrong idea. I still couldn’t do the relationship thing, and if anything, talking to Jazmine only reminded me of that.
I also knew that the second I saw Megan again, I’d forget about the valid reasons I wasn’t crossing the friends line and be tempted to push that boundary way farther than I should. But if anyone could turn the day around, it’d be her.
So as the phone rang, I shoved logic away, ignored the high likelihood of her brother finding out we were hanging out—just friends or not, I was sure he wouldn’t take the news very well—and silently pleaded for her to pick up the phone.
