Page 100 of Crew Princess
“No! I think of you!”
He perked up. “What? You do?” He surged for her, capturing her hand. “’Cause ninety percent of the time, I think of you. I mean, if we’re all being transparent here—”
“No one’s being transparent here. Only you.” Cross cut in. “Please. Stop.”
Zellman ignored him. “Bren’s like two percent of the time, and it’s enough where I get uncomfortable about it. That’s why I said something.”
“And the other eight percent?” Sunday folded her arms over her chest.
Zellman rubbed at the side of his jaw. “Do I have to be transparent about that too?” He leaned forward, dropping his voice, though everyone heard. “Because, babe, you shouldn’t know those. I’m a guy. We’re crude. A lot of the time.”
“Stop while you’re ahead,” Cross suggested.
Zellman turned to him. “I’m ahead?”
“No, but your girl doesn’t want to stab you right now.”
“But I might,” I growled.
Zellman threw me a carefree grin, as if he assumed I was joking, but as Sunday stalked off and he went with her, he glanced back. There was a twinge of uneasiness there.
He stopped halfway down the hallway and yelled back, “We’re good. Right, Bren? You’re not gonna slice me when I pass out Saturday night? Cause I’m 98-percent sure that’ll happen.”
I flipped him off. “Since we’re all about being transparent right now, yes.”
He hurried to catch up to Sunday. “Okay. I’ll—please don’t murder me. Crew mates don’t murder crew mates.”
I tipped my head back. “Crew mates don’t say about crew mates what you just said about me!”
“Yeah. Okay. I see that.” Sunday was turning the corner, with Zellman hot on her heels. He raised his book in the air. “Sorry, B!” Then they were gone.
Jordan coughed. “I’m noticing you’re here. In the hallway.”
I knew what he was asking. “Yeah. I told her. It’s getting set up.”
“About all of us?” Cross asked.
“She’s salivating over you especially.”
“Great.”
I laughed.
And like before with my smile, Cross’ own grin appeared. Jordan grinned a little too, and even Tab softened at the sound. It’s like I never laughed.
Did I laugh?
Crap. I might never laugh.
I sighed. I’d have to work on that. But not now.
“How’s Sunday doing with the baby?” I asked Tabatha.
She straightened from Jordan, shrugging. “I don’t know. I bring it up sometimes, but she doesn’t want to talk about it.” She looked over her shoulder to where Sunday and Zellman had gone. “I was at her house the other night. Z came over, and I heard them fighting. I don’t know what he’s all told you guys, but he’s trying to find out who the guy is. She won’t tell him. Me either, because…” She leaned back against Jordan’s side. “For obvious reasons.”
Cross frowned. “I don’t like knowing one of those pieces of shit has hurt one of ours, and he’s getting away with it.”
“Yeah.” She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I know.”
