Page 41 of The Game Plan
Bret gives me a look that tells me she doesn’t quite believe that. And she’s right. I can’t say what is happening, but it certainly isn’tnothing.
We start walking side by side down the sidewalk, even though her townhouse is in the opposite direction. The complex is strange—a large property with rows of townhouses sprinkled among apartment buildings, all with exterior entrances.
Our walk isn’t awkward. I’ve liked Bret since I first met her. She’s observant and kind, but she doesn’t use it as a weapon. She’s not figuring you out to use it against you. When she first arrived at CTU last year, she was harboring her secrets. I think she respects people’s privacy while subtly letting others know she’s here for them, if they need someone. There’s sweetness under all her sass.
She glances at my belly. “How’re you feeling? Almost there, right?”
“I’m doing fine. Feel like I’m carrying around a carton of watermelons, though. Four or so weeks to go.”
“You’re glowing,” she says sincerely.
I chuckle. “It’s called sweat, Bret.”
She shakes her head, rolling her eyes, but doesn’t keep feeding me compliments. “Ready for school?”
“As I’ll ever be,” I grumble, wiping sweat from my brow. “I had an interesting run-in at the bookstore. I have a feeling it’s the first of many.”
“Who do I need to punch?”
“I ran into Tierney Turner. She gave me the whole ‘oh, the rumors are true’ with the mini-interrogation.”
Bret rolls her eyes. “Tierney is the worst. I’ve only been around her a few times, but it was a few too many. Classic mean girl.”
“She gives Regina George a run for her money.”
She points her finger in the air, in athat’s rightmotion. “Should’ve throat-punched her.”
“I considered it.”
“Could’ve blamed it on pregnancy hormones.”
As we round the corner, we fall into a peaceful lull in conversation. My feet ache, but I’m grateful for the company. With my building in sight, Bret does a little shimmy in her shoulders like she’s nervous to say something.
Her head turns in my direction. “How’s he doing? With all”—she waves her hand in a circular motion toward me—“this?”
I falter in my steps. “He’s been amazing. More than I could have ever asked for. He’s gone to doctors’ appointments, surprises me with treats, and always makes sure I’m fed.” I pause as my stomach growls at the thought. “I didn’t even know he could cook.”
“Oh yeah, he got the cooking gene from Mom.Idid not,” she states matter-of-factly, before her voice softens. “He’s a protector. It’s in his nature to go above and beyond to make sure the people he loves are safe.”
I nod, knowing how true that statement is. “He’s been…off lately. I’ve caught him staring into space, and when I think he’s going to say something, he changes the subject.”
“And you think it’s about you…”
My chest clenches. I nibble my lip to keep my emotions in check. “How could I not? I’m worried I’ve made things harder for him by being here.”
A gentle hand grips my forearm. Bret glances toward where Grant stands on the balcony, looking down at us. I can see the curious glint in his eyes from here.
“You’re not a burden. Remember that, Savannah. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t want you with him. Grant Campbell doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to.”
I nod, giving her a watery, tight-lipped smile.
“And if he’s acting weird, it’s probably because he doesn’t want to push you. He has feelings for you, Sav, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I can only blink.
“And he hasn’t told our parents you’re living with him.”
That has my lips parting in shock. Bret turns and waves at her brother, then gives me a wink and walks away.
