Page 42 of What are the Risks
“It wasn’t middle school,” I argued.
As Ruby leaned over me, resting a hand on my upper thigh to shift closer to Miranda, I jolted more than I had the first time a girl touched me. I was so far gone right now it was pathetic.
“He was nine, which is still pretty cringe,” Ruby chuckled.
Miranda twirled her straw. “So you’ve known each other since you were nine?”
“Our entire lives,” I corrected. “Our mums are best friends.”
Miranda nodded slowly as she internally tried piecing mine and Ruby’s friendship together. It was a puzzle I’d watched many girls try to figure out, and more often than not, they’d muddled it up.
“I’ve got years of dirt on, Wheels,” Ruby threatened with a playful smirk. “I know all his embarrassing stories.”
She wasn’t lying. She had an arsenal of memories I’d rather we didn’t recount tonight. Thank goodness her phone went off when it did. Noah was calling her, but without an ounce of hesitation, she screened the call.
I was starting to think something was up with them, but having being burned by meddling in their relationship before, I wasn’t about to pry. She’d tell me if she wanted to.
“Scoot, Wheels,” she said, nudging me with her hip. “I’ve got to pee.”
“Me too,” Miranda agreed, before signalling for her friend to follow.
The fact girls couldn’t pee alone never ceased to amaze me.
While they were gone, Evan and I settled the bill. Then as we waited, he kept glancing at me with a smug grin, like there was something he wanted to say but was holding back.
“What?” I groaned, crossing my arms over my chest.
His lips twisted into an arrogant smirk. “You’ll figure it out soon enough.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Party pooper
Ruby
The music was so deafening it drowned out my thoughts, which was per-fucking-fect right now. Add the four vodka sodas from dinner to the mix, and I was on top of the world.
Evan had a booth reserved, which was clearly only intended for the four of them. The fifth-wheel – yours truly – was making it unbearably squishy. My track record with crowded booths wasn’t great lately.
I felt guilty for gatecrashing their date night. Ryker hadn’t mentioned it when I’d called him earlier. If he had, I would’ve paid the ludicrous fee to change my flight to depart three hours ago.
But honestly, the thought of going home and facing my friends was more than I could handle right now. I’d have to eventually, but staying with Ryker tonight gave me a little longer to get my shit together. To figure out how I was feeling and maybe build up the courage to talk to Noah and hear his side – not that it would change anything.
Fourteen missed calls, six voicemails and twenty-one messages – that was the current tally. He was freaking the hell out. Worried where I was. Worried who I’d told. Worried about how many people he’d need to handle damage control with.
I’d deal with that tomorrow. Right now, I wanted to dance.
I made a move to head for the dance floor, but before I could get too far, Ryker’s fingers were wrapping around my wrist.
“Where are you going?”
“To dance.”
He groaned. “I don’t want to dance, Rubz.”
“I never said you have to.I’mgoing to dance.”
He slowly glanced between Miranda and me, torn. He clearly wanted to stay with her, but he didn’t want me going off into a club on my own. I really shouldn’t have come tonight. I prided myself on being a good wingwoman, and right now I was the opposite.
