Page 43 of Things I Wish I Said
“Oops.” Ryleigh watches her go, then turns back to me, nose scrunched. “Sorry. Hope I didn’t mess things up with Barbie over there.”
Cameron busts out laughing again, while I shake my head, my mouth a flat line.
I think if I expect one thing from Ryleigh, it’s to expect the unexpected.
“Are you ever serious?”
“Rarely.” Her smile is triumphant. “Maybe I read you wrong, but I don’t think you’re sorry you’re not having dinner with her.”
“No,” I say without hesitation. “I’m not.”
“Then, you’re welcome.” She pokes me in the ribs, and I laugh, her touch lingering long after it’s gone.
“Dude, again, where’d you find her and where can I get one.”
“The want ads,” Ry replies straight-faced. “I applied for a fake boyfriend, and he answered.”
Cameron sputters out another laugh. “Good one.”
“Right?” Ryleigh laughs along with him, and I decide I don’t like the way he’s looking at her, not one fucking bit. The interest I see there is a little too strong for my liking. Ryleigh and I might only be together as a part of her wish, but it doesn’t mean I want Cameron moving in on her right in front of me.
His gaze settles on her hair for a moment, and I wonder if he can tell it’s a wig. If I didn’t already know, I’d have no idea. With the ball cap on, it’s even harder to discern, but the undeniable urge to protect her leaves me worrying something stupid will come out of his mouth anyway.
“Ryleigh, right?” Cameron asks, and I relax. Barely. “I’m Cameron, Grayson’s best friend.”
Ryleigh reaches out and takes his hand.
“You should come to Kip’s party Friday night. There’ll be no parents, plenty of booze, food, and dancing.”
I frown at him. “I thought you weren’t going. You told me—”
“Maybe I changed my mind.”
Ryleigh glances at me. “You’re going?”
“I was planning on it,” I say carefully. “But I don’t think it’s the right place for—”
“Come on, man. She can handle herself. Can’t you Ryleigh?” Ry winks at him in answer, and my scowl deepens. “Besides, we’ll both be there to watch over her.”
I glare at him.
Fucking great.
Either he’s meddling and trying to push us together or he has himself a little crush.
I’m not sure which is worse.
Either way, the last person I’d want to take to Kip’s party is Ryleigh. Those parties are trolling with douchebags. Dustin and his crew almost always make an appearance, which means half of the people in attendance will be high as fucking kites or drunk off their asses, and the ones that aren’t will be looking for an easy lay.
A bunch of bored rich kids in search of entertainment.
One way or the other, they’ll find it there, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m one of them. After the week I’ve had, I planned on getting stoned out of my mind or completely fucking wasted. Maybe both. But how the hell am I supposed to do that if I’m responsible for her?
“Last I checked, I’m a big girl,” she says, and I groan because I know I’m fucked.
I may not know Ryleigh all that well, but I know her enough to realize she’s the type of girl who won’t back down from this if it’s something she wants.
I flash Cameron a dirty look before I make one last attempt at deterring her. “These parties get wild. I’m not sure it’s a good idea, but we can still hang out. Do something else.”
