Page 26 of Crew
Her eyes slid away again, and her cheek pulled in like she was biting it.
I felt bad. I honestly did, but if Cross knew someone had invaded my privacy and tried to hack my phone, and he didn't tell me, I'd be livid.
"I'll get him to hang out here more often," I added. I wanted to say I wouldn't back him for moving out, but I couldn't promise that.
"Really?" She looked up at me.
It wasn't much. Nodding, I turned toward the door.
"What are you going to do about Sunday?" Taz asked.
I looked back. "Do you really care?"
She paused, then shook her head. "No. Not anymore."
I gave her a smile. "Don't worry. I'll make sure she sees me leaving. She'll know you didn't tell me."
"That's not--"
I was gone.
I liked Taz, but she shouldn't have asked me to keep something from Cross. She knew better. Something churned, twisted, tied up in a knot inside my stomach. I wasn't sure what it was, but I let my smile fade to a hardened grin as I walked downstairs.
I could hear voices in the kitchen as I turned and stopped in the doorway.
Sunday's squad was sitting around the table and spread throughout the kitchen. One by one, they looked up. One by one, they stopped talking, until no one said a word.
I waited until Sunday looked up.
"Guys, what--" She had a pitcher of orange juice in her hand. She'd just pulled it from the fridge. Monica stood at the counter, a vodka bottle in front of her.
Sunday's eyes widened.
I leaned against the doorframe, my eyes steady on her. "I heard everything." I pushed up and strolled over to her.
Her grip tightened on the pitcher.
"You think rumors and whispers behind my back are going to hurt me? You think you can come at me like I'm any other girl?" I shook my head, my hand coming up under her pitcher. Taking it, I dumped the contents over her head. She didn't move. She didn't say a word. She took it, and her gaze didn't break from mine at all.
