Page 4 of Bad Crush
“If you did it, I’m sure it’s great.”
The compliment warms my insides. Everything he says is so perfect. “Thanks, Adam. I should…” I motion with my head.Leave before I make this any more uncomfortable.
One of those rare smiles tips up his lips. “Later, Reagan.”
I hustle out of the apartment and back to the safety of my own. Dakota’s back from class and standing in the kitchen throwing ingredients into the blender for a smoothie. The same one every day. Chocolate protein powder and a scoop of peanut butter. She adds peanut butter to everything, buys it in bulk. I’ve had so many peanut butter sandwiches since we started rooming together freshmen year; I can’t even look at a jar of Jif anymore.
“Where have you been looking like that?” She waves a peanut butter-covered spoon in my direction. “And without shoes.”
“Retrieving a secret admirer letter.” I run a hand over my messy hair again and then use my scrunchie to pull my hair back. Where is that black and gold scrunchie anyway? It isn’t exactly lucky, but it is my favorite, and I haven’t seen it in weeks.
“Oh.” Her brows lift. “Sounds like I missed an interesting night.”
“You have no idea.”
2
Adam
I’m broken.
A hot girl is sitting on my lap and the only thing I can think about is how her bony ass is digging into my thigh. I try to adjust to find a more comfortable position without tossing her off my lap. She turns and smiles at me, bats her lashes.
She’s pretty—stunning blue eyes, a cute pixie haircut that few girls could pull off. My gaze drops to take in the skintight dress that molds to her curves and stops mid-thigh. Nope, nothing. I feel nothing. I really am broken.
Being single isn’t my jam. Sure, it’s fun hanging out and drinking, flirting, but it all feels so shallow. I flirt with a purpose—to get a girlfriend. And the one in my lap isn’t really my type.
“Hey,” she says for about the tenth time. That’s all she says. One word, repeated. I can’t tell if it’s some sort of private joke we’re supposed to be sharing or if it’s the only thought floating in her head.
“Hey,” I parrot back. I don’t get the game, but I play along.
She smiles and shifts, digging her tailbone into my thigh. Fuck, that hurts worse than taking a stick to the face. At least the latter is over quickly instead of this constant, unrelenting jab.
I’m not this guy, sitting around with a random girl I’m not interested in draped over me. Which is kind of the point lately. Whatever I’ve been doing isn’t working. Four different girlfriends in less than a year. That sounds like a lot, even to my own ears. I like being in a relationship, but I can admit that something needs to change. Maybe shallow interactions are exactly what I need right now.
The door to our apartment opens and our neighbors, Dakota and Reagan, step through. It’s just a small party tonight, but the living room is crowded.
“Hey guys,” Dakota says. She marches right in like she owns the place and motions for Maverick to move over so she can sit between him and Rhett.
Maverick’s dog, Charli, lifts her head from where she lies on the floor at his feet.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Dakota talks soft and sweet, highly un-Dakota like, to the dog.
Reagan is more hesitant and polite than her roommate. She waves and scans the room, smiling at everyone and presumably looking for a place to sit.
The only empty seat is next to me. I pull bony ass girl, Leah, higher up on my leg to make room and find some relief from her tailbone too.
“We’ve got room over here,” I say to Reagan. “Have a seat.”
She meets my gaze and then drops hers to the floor as she squeezes past us and sits as far away as she can. We’ve known each other for two years, but Reagan is sort of shy. I say sort of because I’ve seen her come out of her shell lots of time with Ginny and Dakota, but any time I’ve tried to talk to her, she’s quiet and hard to get to know. I always found it ironic how timid she is in person because on stage, she’s vibrant and alive.
“Did you find your scrunchie?” I ask.
“What’s that?” She leans closer to hear me. Honey blonde hair falls over her shoulder and tickles my arm.
“Did you find your lucky scrunchie?”
“No, but it’s not a big deal. I’m sure it will turn up.” She gets an embarrassed look on her face and pulls back.
