Page 36 of Bad Crush
“What do we do?” Reagan asks.
“Nothing. They’re the idiots with their ears pressed to the door. They’ll get bored eventually.” I kiss her and then get up to take care of the condom.
Reagan’s got the sheet wrapped around her, staring at the door when I pull out clean clothes. She’s more bothered by them than I am. I guess I was expecting it. Nothing happens in this apartment that doesn’t open itself up for public scrutiny. I love these guys, but they’re nosy as hell.
I pull on sweats, toss Reagan a shirt, and then quietly pad to the door. I wait to be sure they’re still there, but when Maverick’s deep chuckle gives them away, I swing the door open without warning.
Stepping into the doorway, I stretch out an arm to stop them from getting in and hopefully shielding Reagan from view.
“Can we help you?” I ask. I try for annoyed, but it’s been too good of a night for it to ring sincere.
Maverick, Ginny, Heath, Rhett, and even Dakota stand in a huddle with matching guilty expressions.
“Is Reagan in there?” Dakota tries to peek around me. “It’s Reagan, right? If it isn’t Reagan, then I’m going to kick your ass, Scott.”
“It’s none of your business. Get away from my door. It’s weird. Especially you,” I say to my sister.
“Just tell us if Reagan is in there,” Ginny pleads.
I don’t feel Reagan approach, but she ducks under my arm wearing the large T-shirt I gave her. It falls past her knees, and I can’t tell if she’s wearing panties, but I sure plan to find out as soon as these idiots get lost.
“Yay!” My sister squeals the loudest, but even Rhett’s got a dopey grin.
“Now, will you please step away from my bedroom door?” I go to shut it, but Maverick slaps a palm onto the open door and holds it there.
“We need details,” he says.
“No,” Reagan and I fire back at the same time.
“We deserve details.”
Mav has absolutely no boundaries, so I’m sure he truly believes that. I wrap an arm around Reagan’s waist and pull her against my hip. All our friends track the movement.
“Thanks for your interest in our sex life, but we’re not discussing it.”
“Theirsex life.” Heath grins. “Implies it’s going to continue.”
Fuck yeah, it’s going to continue.
I don’t say that out loud, though. Instead, I say, “Good night. Don’t come back.”
Reagan waves and I manage to get the door closed and lock it.
“Well,” I start and run a hand through my hair. “They know we are in here together mostly naked, so we might as well make sure it’s worth the millions of questions we’re both going to get tomorrow.”
She wraps her arms around my neck, and the T-shirt rides up, giving me a glimpse of her bare ass. “It already was.”
I lift her in my arms and carry her back to bed. “I think we can do better.”
* * *
The next night,Reagan asks me to meet her at the theater after hockey practice. I’ll admit I was hoping she was going to do some sort of sexy performance for me. Maybe put on one of those costumes she’s worn and strut across the stage. Okay, that makes her sound like a stripper, but they’re my dreams and I refuse to apologize for them. I can still vividly recall her dress from the last play. It was a deep green and had a V-neck that made her boobs look huge.
I’ve seen just about every performance she’s done since she and Dakota moved in across the breezeway from us. A private show—yeah, that sounds like a great follow-up to last night.
She sits with her books laid out in front of her, a notebook on her lap. Her hair is pulled into a low side ponytail with a black scrunchie. Black with gold stars.
“You found it.” I hop onto the stage.
