Page 124 of Fight or Flight
That look irritated me when we were together, and it’s not any more tolerable now.
“You should go find Mason.”
“It’s not like that between us,” she insists. “We’re just casual.”
“Right,” I say dryly. “Totally casual in that way that exclusive couples are.”
She rolls her eyes, some of her flirty facade fading. “We’re not exclusive.”
“Have you told him that? Because he thinks you are.”
“What do you care? It’s not like he’s your friend or anything.”
“Maybe not, but you know I hate drama.”
“Then at least come in and get another drink,” she presses. “Or we can find something else to enjoy.” She leans in a bit closer. “Remember the night we first got together? That was a good time, right?”
“It was,” I agree.
That night was fun thanks to the booze and weed I’d consumed, and mixing in some MDMA when the buzz was wearing off helped extend the good times, but the marathon hookup session we had is mostly a blur. I’d never tell her this, but it was the drugs and the escapism I was after. The sex was just another way to shut my brain down and chase the good feels of arousal and orgasms.
“We could go back to your room if you don’t want to stick around here,” she suggests.
Crack.
Lianna jumps and lets out a little shriek as she looks around wildly. “What was that? Do you think something is out there?”
“Maybe.” I glance around, but the night is still and once again silent.
Whatever made that noise is close, and definitely bigger than a bunny, but it’s staying hidden for now. I’ll worry about it if it decides to venture out of the woods instead of just making noise nearby.
“We should go inside.” She gives my arm a little tug.
“I’m good here.”
She looks like she’s about to argue but whips her head to the side when there’s loud rustling, like something moving through low-hanging branches, directly to our right.
“Come inside,” she begs. “Something’s out there.”
“You go ahead. I’ll be in soon.”
Shaking her head, she mutters something under her breath that sounds a lot like “Men,” and untangles herself from me.
“It’s your funeral.” She gives me a hard look, then stalks back toward the house.
“I wish,” I whisper, and some of the tightness in my chest lessens when the door bangs shut behind her.
“You dropped something,” a voice says behind me.
“Jesus!” I jump a mile and almost fall right on my ass when my feet get twisted up together.
“Nope, but you can call me that if you want,” Jace says with a grin, my discarded cup in his hand, when I finally manage to turn and face him.
“Where the fuck did you come from?” I ask, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
“I took a shortcut.” He points to the woods.
“Was that you making those noises?”
