Raveling You
Page 13Sliding the handle of my bag over my shoulder, I push people out of my way as I march up to him. “Hey, what’s up, buddy?”
His head jerks up at the sound of my voice, and he almost drops his phone. “You scared the shit out of me.” He presses his hand to his heart and his breathing turns ragged.
My lips tug upward. “Clearly.”
“Hey, we’ll talk at practice later!” Sage shouts to Ayden as he walks backwards down the hallway. “I seriously have something important to talk to you about, so no blowing me off again!”
Ayden holds a thumbs up in his direction as he finishes sending his text.
I scroll over his black jeans, red logo T-shirt, his soft lips, dark eyes, and inky black hair to make sure every inch of him is okay. The last thing I ever want to do is be angry with him if he’s hurt or something. When every visible part of his body checks out okay, I place my hands on my hips. “So, what’s up with texting Sage before me?”
He scratches at the scars on the back of his hand, a nervous habit of his. “I texted him because I wanted to talk to you in person. Not through a text. I wanted us to go have lunch so we can talk in private. I want to… well, try to tell you what happened today.”
“Oh.” I feel so silly and kind of douchey for being irritated. “Sorry. I feel like an ass now. And kind of childish. I was thinking you liked Sage more than me.”
“That will never, ever be true.” He reaches for my hand. “And I’m pretty sure you could never be an ass, even if you tried.”
His brows knit. “My brother…? Oh.” He shakes his head. Again, I feel like an asshole. He probably thought of his real brother, the one he just lost. “You mean Kale or Everson?”
“Kale.” We start down the crowded hallway with our fingers linked together, like we have every day since Ayden entered my life. “I had to give him a ride to school this morning. I think the kid is totally terrified of me. He wouldn’t say a word, and every time I said anything to him, he scowled at me.”
Ayden snorts a laugh as he weaves us around a group of cheerleaders blocking the middle of the hallway.
“What’s so funny, Shy Boy?” I tuck my elbows in as we squeeze by a group of jocks.
I find myself searching around for William in the midst of them, since he generally hangs with the athletes. Thankfully, he’s nowhere to be seen.
Hopefully, it stays that way.
“It’s nothing.” Ayden’s lips expand into an amused smile. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that smile, so even though I have no idea what’s causing it, I smile, too.
“Tell me what’s so funny.” I prod his side with my elbow. “Or else I’ll tickle you until you pee your pants.”
“I’d like to see you try.” He flashes me a genuine smile, and I relax.
“I accept that challenge.” I poke him in the ribs.
“Lyric,” he chuckles, wrapping his arm around his midsection for protection. “I can’t tell you. Kale would get pissed off at me.”
“I wouldn’t tell him that you told me. Jeez, who do you think I am? Maggie?”
As if she senses us talking about her, Maggie suddenly appears in front of us with her hands on her hips and determination in her eyes.
“The date for my New Year’s Eve party has been changed,” she says to me as Ayden and I slam to a halt in front of her. Then she grins in Ayden’s direction and not so discreetly pushes her chest out. I love the girl to death, but she really needs to stop drawing guys in with her breasts. “It’s going to be December thirtieth.”
“How can you have a New Year’s Eve party that’s not on December thirty-first?” Ayden’s smile fades. He’s unfriendly and cold to a lot of people, except me. For some reason, I’ve always been good at bringing out his inner sunshine. “It makes no sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.” She tucks her elbows inward to push her cleavage even higher. “A party’s a party, right?”
“Clever.” Maggie smiles then her gaze flicks to me, as if seeking some sort of confirmation that I’m okay with her trying to show Ayden her goodies. I’m not okay with it. At all. But I’m not about to get angry with her since I haven’t been that honest with what’s been going on with Ayden and me.
She searches my eyes then her posture relaxes and her cleavage sinks back into her shirt. “But, as clever as that is, I’m still calling it my New Year’s Eve party.” She points a finger between the two of us. “A party that you two better show up to.”
She reels around and shimmies her butt down the hallway, drawing in a lot of the male population around her. She instantly zeroes in on her next target, the varsity quarterback. Rolling her shoulders back, she approaches him with what she calls her “vixen swagger walk.”
“Man, she knows how to work those bad boys, doesn’t she?” I mutter, peeking down at my own breasts.
I’m barely a B cup, not that I care. Big breasts aren’t going to get me what I want in life, but I have wondered what it would be like to overly fill out my shirts.