Page 102 of Bad Crush
“That’s a story for another time,” Mav says and opens the door for me.
“On a scale of one to ten, how pissed is Dakota?” I ask when I spot her car pulling into the parking lot.
He doesn’t answer until she stops in front of us. “Why else do you think she’d agree to come get us?”
Pulling open the passenger side door, Mav slides into the seat. “Dakota, baby.”
He rolls down the window. “You coming?”
Walking is starting to sound like a better choice. Especially when I make eye contact with Dakota and she glowers at me.
“Get in, Scott,” she says, and I obey. It’s a long walk to the apartment.
“Thanks for coming to get us,” I say as I buckle up.
“Missed you tonight.” Maverick plays with the radio until he finds a song he likes. He sits back and drums his hands on his legs. “What’d you do?”
“Oh, you know, held my best friend’s hand while she cried her eyes out.” Dakota’s eyes find mine in the rearview mirror.
Even as the image of Reagan crying kicks me in the gut, I can’t help asking for more. “How is she?”
Dakota doesn’t answer.
Mav looks over his shoulder at me and then asks her again, “How is she?”
“She’ll be fine, but right now, she’s a mess.”
I swallow thickly.
“Anything we can do?”
Dakota meets my gaze in the mirror again. “Yeah, leave her be.”
I consider doing that until we get back. I linger behind Dakota as she opens her apartment door. She stops and glares at me. “She’ll talk to you when she’s ready.”
“But—”
“Unless you’re going to walk in there and tell her that she’s the one and nothing is going to come between you, then walk away. She’s going through some shit. She can’t take any more heartbreak.”
“Yeah, all right.” I mumble my thanks for the ride, and she leaves me standing outside by myself. I know she’s right, but I just want to see her, talk to her, comfort her any way I can. Maybe I should be angry with her, but I can’t manage it.
Instead, I tuck tail and go to my place. Ginny and Heath are on the couch, lying together, watching a movie.
Ginny lifts her head from Heath’s chest. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I go to the kitchen and grab a glass of water, chug it, and then fill another to take to my room.
Ginny steps into my room as I go to shut the door.
“I’m tired, G.”
She holds out her hand. “I brought you some Tylenol. I heard you drank Maverick under the table.”
I take them with a nod of thanks. “Hardly under the table. He had to help me out of the bar.”
Ginny snorts and sits on my bed. I kick off my shoes and lie down. I slept like shit last night, and the exhaustion I’ve kept at bay all day finally starts to set in.
“Have you talked to her?”
