Page 62 of Crazy Pucking Love
“It’s nothing I don’t already know. You’re forgetting I lived with you guys all last summer.” Not that I wanted to discuss it in detail, but I could handle the mention of it.
Lyla’s blush deepened. “I do sometimes miss when we had more free time—that last part of summer was so amazing.” She sighed and went to that twitterpated and crazy-in-love place I witnessed during those six weeks. Honestly, last summer was the first time I felt wanted in so long that I loved those days, too. “But he’s also super happy during hockey season, and I enjoy watching him play. With school, I’m also crazy busy with my studies, and it’s actually a good thing he has away games here and there, or I’d probably never force myself to get in all the studying I need to.”
“I get that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough hours in the day to get everything I need to done, and I’m not even in sports.”
“This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain dark-haired winger, would it?” Lyla asked.
My first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. But I knew Lyla would read through it, so I went with the half-truth. “Dane and I are friends.”
“Mm-hm. I’ve beenfriendswith a hockey player before, so I know how that goes.”
“You mean you start dreaming about kissing him all the time, and then you lose track of where the line is, and you’re not even sure you care anymore? But you’re not exactly sure what he’s thinking, which drives you that much crazier?”
Lyla nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’ve totally been there.”
I bit my lip and twisted my earring. “Please don’t tell Beckett.”
“That privilege is all yours. I’ll be there to try to keep him…”
“Calm?”
“I was going to go with less murdery. I know better than to promise the impossible.”
I winced. “Well, there’s nothing to tell him now. I’m not sure it’ll turn into anything more.”
“If I hadn’t noticed him checking you out, or the way his eyes lit up when he sat next to you the other night, I might agree. But I don’t think you’re alone on wanting to cross lines.”
Should I tell her we’ve already done some line crossing?Vanessa knew the details, but they were such amazing details, I sort of wanted to shout them from the rooftops. But I totally wouldn’t, because that’d be awkward afterward, and then I’d need to start over somewhere new again, and ain’t nobody got time for that.
“And I don’t want to put myself in the middle of things, because I’m afraid I steered Whitney wrong for a while…” Lyla wound her hair into a bun, grabbed a pen, and stabbed it through the mess of hair to keep it in place. “So I’m just going to tell you to be careful. For the record, I’d tell you that about any college guy. It’s a different world than high school.”
“My high school world was horrible. Everyone knew everything, I didn’t have any genuine friends, and my last boyfriend just used me—so I sure as hell hope it’s a different world.” Even though those subjects usually caused me pain, a different memory from the first night Dane and I met popped into my head, taking the edge off. He’d made me swear an oath of secrecy before confessing hisGilmore Girlsaddiction, making sure to add it was his sisters’ fault.
How could I not fall for that?
Chapter Thirty-One
Megan
Big surprise, Tuesday night wanted to be as difficult as last night, and the night before that. I kicked off my stifling covers. Within ten seconds or so, goose bumps covered my legs, the cold sinking deeper into my skin and traveling up my body. So I reached for my discarded sheet and comforter and pulled them back over me. I rolled to my side. Then I punched my pillow into a fluffier, firmer shape and flipped to the other side, hoping it’d magically lull me to sleep.
After several minutes of closing my eyes as tightly as I could—like that ever worked—I gave up and reached for my phone. Staring at the bright screen often only woke me up more, but I was about to go insane.
I shot up when I saw the text message alert, along with Dane’s name and the words “You up?”Twenty-two minutes ago. See, this is why I shouldn’t attempt to sleep when I know it’s not happening.
Please, please be awake still.For a second I felt guilty for even wishing it, because the proper amount of sleep was important and all, but after three days of wondering, I needed the peace of mind.
Me:Please say you’re still up.
Before I hit send, I decided that sounded too desperate, so I backspaced and started over, adopting a more casual, cool tone and trying to add a joke in the mix.
Me:As usual, sleep and I aren’t friends. Are you fighting with her, too?
I held my breath, watching the screen and silently praying for that bubble with the three little dots.
When it came up, I let out a little squeal, and Vanessa stirred. But she simply rolled over and continued on sleeping—I was jealous of her ability to not only sleep through noise, but also how it took her all of three seconds to fall asleep. We’d start conversations while drifting off, and she’d crash halfway through, leaving me to finish the discussion by myself, which didn’t exactly make my sanity level look very stable.
Dane:I believe you said it best when you called her a bitch.
