Page 24 of Crazy Pucking Love
The instant her “hey” carried over the line, every muscle in my body relaxed, while my nerve endings pricked up, a clashing mix of relief and want.
“What are you up to?” I asked, plopping down on the couch and kicking my feet on the coffee table, making a spot for them among the Gatorade bottles, dirty plates, and books.
“Trying to figure out what I’m going to do, since my roommate’s sex buddy is about to come over and make being in my room awkward, with a side of unbearable.”
“I just so happen to have my place to myself.” Hudson was with Whitney as usual, and Ryder had gone to visit his family since his mom had some political thing she needed him for. Thanks to the couple-hour drive, he always came home late—or early, depending how you looked at it—and I figured this was my chance to hang out with Megan without any questions, or the guys giving me shit about it. “I thought maybe we could just chill. Maybe watch some Netflix?”
“Are you asking me to Netflix and chill?”
I sat up stick straight, not realizing how it sounded until she put it that way. “No. I swear, I didn’t even think—”
She laughed. “Relax. I was only joking. Want me to grab a pizza on my way?”
“I’ll order the pizza. You just get yourself over here as soon as possible.”
“See you in a few.”
As soon as I hung up, I called in an order for pizza, and while I was waiting for Megan to arrive, I cleaned up the living room the best I could. I wasn’t sure what it said that I cared if my place was clean, but I decided not to analyze it too much, because tonight was about ignoring common sense.
I nearly sprinted to the door to answer it when the knock finally came.
Megan had a two liter of Coke under one arm and a package of Oreos under the other. “Your cheer-up squad is here!”
“Squad? Squad usually implies several people.” I made a big show of looking around. “No other cheerleaders?”
She tapped me on the chest. “Sorry, I’m no cheerleader.” The two-liter bottle slipped, and when she went to catch it, the cookie package slid a couple of inches. It crinkled as she curled it into her stomach with her forearm, making me think we might be feasting on crumbs. “Anymore, anyway.”
I relieved her of the soda before she dropped it and we couldn’t open it without creating a volcano of foam. “Wait. Anymore? That means at one point you were a cheerleader?”
She lifted her chin. “Until all the girls on the team thought it’d be funny to make me fall off the pyramid. I had a giant bruise on my ass for a week.”
Donotthink about her in a short cheerleader skirt or her ass.
My just friends claim was crumbling by the second, that line drawn in the sand getting blown over enough I couldn’t quite see it anymore. “No wonder you decided to go squadless. Who said I needed cheering up?”
“I could hear it in your voice,” she said, placing her hand on my arm, and my heart snagged in my chest, temporarily forgetting how to beat.
The doorbell rang again, interrupting the warm fuzzy moment. This time, it was the pizza. After spreading the food out on the coffee table—good thing I’d cleaned it—we argued over what to watch.
“Let’s see how you like it when I pushyourbuttons,” Megan said, swiping the remote from me. She searched up a movie, and the horrible boy band she was so fond of popped onto the screen.
“Hell no.” I snatched the controller out of her hands, holding it far out of her reach. “Now you’re grounded from decision making. I hope you’re happy.”
“Excuse me for thinking you wanted to watch the ultimate fan guide to One Direction,” Megan said, crossing her arms and forcing out a huge huff. The twitching corners of her mouth made her mock anger crumble.
“Mm-hm. How many times have you seen it?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Maybe twice. But it was when I was fifteen, which is probably still too old to be as obsessed as I was. I know the guys’ signs, where they were born… Pretty much all the scoop.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Jealous?”
“Surprisingly, yes.”
She laughed and then reached for another piece of pizza. “Would it make you feel better if I knew your sign? Your favorite color?”
“I’m an Aries, I like the color blue, and I enjoy candlelit walks on the beach…”
“Candlelit walks on the beach? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Hot wax? Think about it.”
