Page 89 of Crazy Pucking Love
I almost asked how she knew it wasn’t something else, but instead, I just held on to these three girls, glad that while an overwhelming sense of loneliness had settled deep into my bones, I wasn’t totally alone.
Me + Lyla + Vanessa + Whitney = strong enough to eventually get through this.
So even though tonight hadn’t ended the way I wanted it to, and I wasn’t sure that whole better to have loved and lost than not loved at all thing was true, I wasn’t going to let it ruin all the progress I’d made.
I had these awesome friends, the engineering program to look forward to, and I no longer held back who I was. I’d put my whole self out there and stood up for what I wanted.
And damn it, I was worth fighting for.
If Dane didn’t see that, he wasn’t the guy for me.
I had a feeling I’d need to tell myself that fact a lot over the next few weeks. I didn’t want to think about what I’d do if it took more than that to get over him, even as my heart whispered it would take longer than that to fully heal.
Chapter Forty-Six
Dane
I never knew that it could physically hurt to not text someone.
Larry refilled my coffee mug and cast a pointed glance at the empty bench across from me.
“Don’t start,” I said.
“The very nice pretty girl doesn’t come in anymore, and you sit here looking all sad. It’s kind of hard not to notice.”
The hollow sensation that’d been my constant companion opened wider, sucking away every ounce of happiness it could find, which wasn’t much these days. “That sounds suspiciously like starting.”
“I just don’t know whyIhave to suffer because you didn’t stop her from walking out of here last week. Maybe you could make it right? Have you tried flowers? Big-ass flowers. Women love that.”
“I don’t think that’d be enough. Thanks for the coffee, but I’ve got some studying to do.” I pulled my books toward me, not wanting to see the disappointment on his face. It wasn’t last week that I’d failed to stop Megan from walking out, either. It was a week and three long-ass days.
It was torture, each of those days and nights and all those minutes and seconds.
I glanced at my phone, and a dull ache wound through my wrist, ran up my arm, and settled in my chest. I turned my attention to my coffee, sipping it and waiting for the caffeine to kick in. The problem with barely sleeping was that it dulled your senses, and I’d OD’d on caffeine so much it hardly made a difference anymore.
When I heard the door open, I automatically looked, hoping Megan would walk in, even though I knew it wouldn’t be her. I did a double take at Hudson and Whitney. They came over and sat across from me.
“Is this where you’ve been every night this past week?” Hudson knew I occasionally came here, just not how often.
“Bro, I’m trying to get through all my assignments. I’m behind.”
Whitney hadn’t said much to me since Megan and I parted ways, and I was sure she’d seen her—for more than the few minutes I allowed myself to stare at her in our calculus class, from the very back of the room. Before I could stop myself, I asked, “How’s Megan? Did she take that position in the engineering program?”
Whitney tilted her head. Since she and Lyla were all about the girl-power thing, similar to the way my sisters used to bond together to outvote me, I thought she’d tell me to go to hell, or some other such pleasantry.
Instead her features softened. “She’s in the program, yeah. Not sure about how she is. I think pretty hurt still.”
My throat tightened and I scratched my jaw. “She’ll get through it. She’s strong, and in the end, she’ll be better off without me.”
“Oh? Where’d you get that idea?”
Now Hudson was eyeing me like I was some kind of encaged zoo animal he’d never seen before. “I have a theory.”
“What are you guys doing here, anyway?” I asked, not wanting to hear theories. “Shouldn’t you be out doing couple stuff?”
“We came here as a couple to see why our good friend Dane is so mopey lately, and if we can’t find a way to fix that.” Hudson flashed me an over-the-top grin. “You need to take a night off before you keel over.”
The second I slowed down, memories of Megan would flash through my mind. Of her and her shitty music, and how she’d sing along with a huge smile on her face. Of dancing with her that night at Howl at the Moon, the sweet torture every time her body brushed mine and made me want more. Of all the nights in my bedroom—even though I filled most of my bed, it felt empty without her.
