“Oh, no, I’m not being mean. She proudly calls herself a ho.”
Well, then.
“Hey, don’t change the subject. What’s up with you two?”
“I’m not sure… We’ve been texting a lot recently. Hanging out. I guess we sort of became friends.”
Zoey snorts. “Honey, friends don’t almost fuck on the bathroom counter.”
“It was just a kiss.” I flush. Last night was euphoric. It was the most alive I’ve felt in a long time.
“Please, he was this close to bending you over the counter and taking you right there.”
“Zo!” I scold her.
She sticks her hands up. “Nothing but the truth, baby.”
“Shouldn’t you be mad?” I realize. “You spent the whole night trying to match him with Callie.”
“Are you insane? Don’t get me wrong, I like Callie. But you’re my ride or die. If I’d known about this, I would’ve been Team Kass in a heartbeat.”
Zoey might be a handful sometimes, but then… she says things like this. Makes you feel supported, loved. And that’s why it’s so hard for me to believe Will’s claims about her throwing me under the bus if it came down to me or her. She has flaws—we all do—but she also has these redeeming qualities, and for that one, short moment, when the good side comes out, it’s so easy to forget all that she’s done.
“I feel bad for Callie. She had such high hopes, and he still ended up in that bathroom with me,” I admit.
“Meh, I wouldn’t worry about it. He was just her flavor of the week. She’ll have found herself a new plaything by Monday.”
I wish I could believe her, but Callie’s dreamy eyes as she talked about Will last night suggest she most likely won’t go down without a fight.
“What do you think it means?” Zoey rolls to her side, propping her chin into her palm as she stares at me curiously. “Are you two like dating now?”
“Hell if I know,” I say, only acknowledging my lie when the words trickle out of my mouth. Unless Will turned into Prince Charming overnight, I do know. “I’m guessing it was just a drunken kiss. Until he tells me otherwise, that’s how I’ll look at it.”
Zoey proceeds to catch me up on what happened after I went searching for Morgan, telling me that as soon as I left, Will pushed Callie away and stormed off. No explanation.
“Water.” Zoey groans mid-boy-talk. “I need water. My mouth feels like the fucking desert.”
Four complaints later, I decide to put her out of her misery and go grab us cold water bottles out of the fridge.
“Can you get painkillers, too?” She gives me the puppy eyes.
“Coming right up.”
“Thanks, you’re the beesssst,” she slurs.
She’s clearly still drunk, and if I’m being honest, I am, too. The difference is, she doesn’t have to be at work in two hours. I do. I need to sober up. Tiptoeing down the stairs not to wake Winter, I almost slip on water and grip the railing for balance.
Who the hell put water all over the stairs?
I think back to the party gossips Zoey dumped on us in the Uber. Something about Bianca whining that she couldn’t find Haze anywhere after he broke off their “special friends” relationship. He told her it wouldn’t be right to keep sleeping with her knowing that she has feelings for him.
I know, that was… awfully decent of him. He must’ve gotten punched in the head too hard at the last fight.
I also happen to know Winter disappeared not even an hour into the party. Coincidence? I think not. My guess is they left together. Still doesn’t explain the water, but it’s the best I’ve got. Man, I hope she didn’t do anything stupid.
Says the girl who made out with her brother’s best friend.
Rubbing my eyes, I pad into the kitchen, instantly shivering at the icy temperature. It’s colder than Blake’s heart in here. I catch a glimpse of myself in the hall mirror on my way to the thermostat and cringe.
I look like a pile of shit.
And that’s putting it lightly.
I’m so glad no one can see me right n—
“Morning, control freak.”
You have got to be kidding me.
I shriek in surprise, swiveling around and spotting Will by the back door. He looks like he’s on his way out, a black gym bag dangling off his shoulder. My brother probably sent him to pick up more of his stuff.
Because yes, Kendrick’s still staying with Blake to keep from my mother that he got his ass whooped. Only heaven knows what crazy excuse he fed my mom for her to be okay with this. I saw him from afar at the party. His face is looking better every day. He should be able to come home soon—not that I miss living with this human headache.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I clutch my racing heart.
When Will’s eyes rake over my body, I wish I could develop superpowers and go invisible woman on his ass. I’m wearing biker shorts, no bra, and the oldest, most hideous T-shirt I own.
At first, he seems as shocked as I am.
Until his gaze drops to my chest.
And he smirks.
Don’t tell me you can see my—
Yep. You can see my nipples.
Note to self: Life still hates you.
Will chews on his bottom lip, failing to conceal his grin. “Rude. I don’t even get a hi?”
I snatch the gray cardigan my mom hung by the door, flinging it on faster than a speeding bullet, but it’s too late. Will’s seen more than enough, and he’s got his joke ready to go.
“Or maybe your friends want to say hi?”
This is it.
I’m crawling under a rock and never coming out.
“Why are you here?” I fold my arms over my chest as if to be extra certain he can’t see through the fabric.
“Kendrick sent me to get some of his stuff for training.” He points to his gym bag. We’ve talked about me being aware of their secret before, yet I often forget about Will’s involvement in all this. That my crush also fucks people up for fun—Way to add to the already long list of reasons why I shouldn’t feel this way about him.
He speaks before I can answer, tucking one hand into his sweatpants pocket. “Not too hungover?”
“I’m fine. You?” Ironically, the pounding in my head gets five times worse when I say that.
“Can barely remember half of my night, but I’ll live.” He ruffles through his messy hair with his available hand.
Wait.
“Yeah, that tends to happen when you drink double your body weight in tequila.” I slap on a weak smile, debating on asking him about his memory loss. To hell with it. “How much do you remember exactly?”
“First half of my night at best.” He shrugs. “I know we played some lame-ass game with shots. Then everything is kind of a blur.”
My heart sinks.
“Oh.” I nod, failing to keep my feelings beneath the surface. Without another word, Will makes his way over to me, his steps slow but determined. My pulse throbs in anticipation. He only stops once the space between us is so small I catch a whiff of his cologne.
He nudges a piece of my hair that swerved in front of my eye behind my ear, and I stiffen, just as affected, if not more, by his touch sober as I was drunk as a skunk.