Page 55 of Crazy Pucking Love
Megan shook her head. “I think you got the good side. My guys didn’t spin.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let’s switch and have a rematch, then.”
As we exchanged places, I took advantage of the table blocking the view of our lower halves and gave her a quick smack on the butt. “Good game. You’ll get ’em next time, Tiger.”
Megan rolled her eyes, but a giant grin curved her lips. I watched her set up on the other side, and my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, sure Hudson was warning me that I wasn’t being subtle enough.
Instead my ex’s name lit up the screen, along with the text she’d sent.
Jazmine:Don’t freak out, but Lissa got picked up by the cops tonight. It wasn’t my fault. I tried to get her to leave, but she insisted on staying.
“What’s wrong?” Megan asked. “Dane?”
“Just a second.” Dread filled my chest, turning the blood in my veins icy cold. “I gotta take care of something.”
Me:Did you call Cassidy? Or my parents?
Jazmine:No. I’m telling you. You’re welcome.
What I wanted to write back wasno fucking thanks. But that’d only start a fight, and obviously Lissa was hell-bent on ruining her future. So instead I pulled up Cassidy’s name, wondering how to break the news without it crushing her, and wishing that I were there so she didn’t have to shoulder it herself.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Megan
Dane had left in a hurry, and I wondered again what was in that text that made him pale like that and then rush off so quickly. Hudson and Whitney went with him, and while I hadn’t talked to Whitney much, I thought about texting her just to make sure Dane was okay.
Which would be the opposite of covert, and possibly not in line with the casual, no-pressure relationship we were supposed to have going on, but I couldn’t help but worry that something bad had happened.
“You okay?” Vanessa asked, draping her arm over my shoulders.
“Yeah. I’m sure it was important, whatever it was.” I glanced over my shoulder at Ryder, who was playing the Pac-Man machine, an intense look on his face. “You having fun with Ryder?”
“Yeah. He’s nice to look at. Kind of quiet, though.”
“Well, thanks for reading between the lines and making sure I got to play with Dane.”
“’Course. What are friends for?”
Before Lyla and Vanessa, I more knew the theory of what friends were for, but my roommate turned out to be an even better friend than I’d hoped for, adding proof that they did exist. Earlier today I told her everything that’d happened with Dane, from last night at the Quad to the confrontation this morning, and how we’d, uh, worked out our issues. She encouraged me to enjoy it while it lasted, which made me feel better about revising my original stance on potential boyfriends.
Lyla and Beck wandered over, hand in hand.
“Anyone want a drink?” Beckett asked.
“Yeah. I’ll have a shot of whiskey,” I said.
“Funny. So a Coke?”
“Sure.” Not that I actually wanted whiskey. Maybe something milder, but Beckett would never go for it, as if he thought I never drank. Someday I’d have to break the news that I wasn’t his kid sister anymore.
He went to grab the drinks, and I leaned against the wall, the hours I hadn’t slept suddenly weighing me down and making me wish for my bed. Of course whenever I finally flopped into it, I found myself wide-awake, calculating the length of the cracks in the ceiling based on the square footage of the room.
Me + no sleep = useless knowledge of cracks, and the fact that the ones in our dorm average two and a half feet. Or thirty inches, if you’re into that kind of thing, and .762 meters for my British friends. You know, if I meet any someday.
Ryder threw his hands up and swore at the Pac-Man ghosts. When he noticed he’d grabbed our attention, his expression turned sheepish, and he slowly walked over to us, arriving right as Beck returned with drinks.
I took a sip of Coke, then set it on a nearby table and turned to Lyla. “Mind if I steal my brother for a game?”
