Page 110 of Crew Princess
Taz had been quiet since the party bus, but she jerked her head up now. “Fuck off, Tabatha.”
Tabatha gasped.
Jordan turned back, his eyes wide.
Zellman had been mid-belch, but quieted it, pressing a fist to his mouth.
“What did you say?” Tabatha asked.
Race started to speak, but Taz leaned forward, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “I said fuck off. If you want to be friends with us, you need to pull the superiority stick from your ass. We don’t put up with that shit.”
Tabatha sat up in her seat. Her neck was red, and it was moving up her face. “Are you fucking kidd—”
Race started to say something, again.
He was interrupted, again.
Cross beat him to it this time. “Are you delusional?”
Tabatha looked like she’d been slapped in the face. The red drained, and she paled.
“We’re not like that. I don’t care if you’re dating Jordan. You’re about to say the wrong shit to my sister. You’re stepping wrong. What you should’ve done is stepped right the first time by realizing Bren was talking to that girl for a reason. Bren cares about her, and that means she’s good people. Back off and learn your place.”
Tabatha’s mouth hung open. A gargled sound escaped, and she turned to Jordan. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that?”
“Babe.”
“I’m your girlfriend—”
“Babe.”
“I don’t care who they are to you! They didn’t suck your dick before pictures today!”
Zellman snorted, lowering his head, his shoulders bouncing up and down. The other guys weren’t as considerate. They outright laughed.
Tabatha shot them a dark look. Sunday smacked Zellman’s chest with the back of her hand.
“Sorry.” He coughed, reaching for his water. “Everything’s a little funnier right now.”
“Shut it, Zellman!”
“BABE!”
“What?” Tab rounded back to Jordan, fisting a fork.
Calm. Cool. Definitely smoothing it over, Jordan nodded toward our end of the table. “What you did was wrong. Taz is right. Cross is right. And Bren’s probably second-guessing your friendship right now.”
It penetrated. You could see it. Tabatha still had the stung look on her face, and her cheeks puffed out like a blowfish, but after a few seconds, she suddenly deflated.
About that time, Ava came back. She was placing a plate of appetizers in the middle of the table when Tabatha started.
“Um…”
Ava paused, her hand stretched out, stepping between Sunday and Zellman’s chairs.
When Tabatha didn’t continue, Ava asked, “Did you need more water, miss?”
Miss.
