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Problem is, I don’t want her seeing anyone else. The mere thought of her dating whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is makes my heart jackhammer and my palms sweat. Thus, the possessiveness. I feel helpless and it’s not a feeling I’m a fan of. I get enough of that dealing with Brian already.
We watch the sun take its last breath before it sinks into the Pacific. I check my phone to see if Alice has texted me back. Nothing.
“Bro––” D chuckles. “You spend all your free time with her. You never go more than two sentences without bringing up her name. And you won’t let any of us near her. You already are in a relationship. The only thing you’re not getting is the convenient sex.”
Dallas stands, slaps my shoulder, walks back inside.
Chapter 17
Reagan
I text Alice for the fifth time in two days.
Me: on the bus and cole is entertaining everyone with stories of his sexual escapades. save me.
Half an hour later and still no response. We’ve been driving for an hour and it already feels like forever. Being trapped in this tin can, helpless to do anything other than wait Alice out, is making me antsy. I’m no expert on women, but I’m pretty sure that waiting is not the winning strategy here. Time is not on my side. The longer she has to be mad at me the worse this is going to get. And with each minute that passes without a text from her, fear that I may have permanently sunk this friendship gains traction.
Me: what are you up to tonight? plans?
When that one goes ignored I start to sweat. I still owe her an apology and I didn’t want to do it over the phone. I was going to take her out to dinner, do it properly, but she shot that plan down like it was target practice at the O.K. Corral.
Before I check my phone again, I glance sideways to make sure I’ve got privacy. My co-captain is sound asleep in the seat next to mine. Brock’s head is tipped back on the headrest, noise-canceling headphones on.
“Rea––where you at? We need one more for the card game,” Shane says loud enough to get everyone’s attention.
“Nah, man. Not in the mood.”
“Lady problems,” Dallas mutters from the seat across the aisle.
My head snaps up from the phone to find all eyes trained on me. I shoot Dallas a knock it off glare, and make a mental note to beat the life out of him later.
“Yeah? Let’s hear it,” Cole adds.
“How about you gossip girls mind your own business,” I throw out casually. If Cole gets wind that I’m genuinely twisted up over a girl he’ll never stop. He’s the most anti-relationship guy I know and I really don’t need him projecting his shit onto me. I got my own bag to deal with.
“That wouldn’t be any fun now, would it,” Cole tosses back with a cocky grin. “We have an eight-hour bus ride, and plenty of wisdom amongst us to dispense.”
“Circle of trust, bro.” Shane gestures with his index finger.
“Hard pass.” I gesture with my middle finger.
“Phone-tree girl is messing with your head,” Cole taunts. “Let us help you out of the darkness and into the light.”
My irritation peaks. I don’t have the fortitude to fend him off tonight. “Suck my dick, Cole.”
“I’ll suck your dick,” Quinn shouts from three rows up and all the guys react at once, laughing, commenting, generally pissing me off.
“Jesus, Smith.”
“Awww, c’mon.”
“Bwahahaha.”
“That’s your captain, dude. A little respect.”
“Love is love, you cunts!” Quinn shouts back, laughing like a madman.
It’s on me to settle the troops, or none of us are going to get any sleep on this bus ride from hell. “Enough! Not a single one of you has a girlfriend with the exception of Rhodes and Finley, and fuck if I’ll take advice from a couple of freshmen––no offense, guys.”
“None taken, Cap,” comes from the head of the bus where those two are probably FaceTiming their GFs.
Cole chuckles. “I’ve had relationships.”
“Those are called hookups. I take naps that last longer,” I’m quick to correct, drawing snickers from the audience.
“Your loss, bro. Just make sure the sorry-ass moping doesn’t interfere with the game tomorrow.”
A moment later, thankfully everyone goes back to doing whatever they were doing before the spotlight fell on me.
“You said she wasn’t your girl,” Brock murmurs on my left. Guess he’s not asleep anymore. True to his nature, which is to be the most chill guy I know, his expression holds no condemnation. “You said the two of you were just friends.”
“She’s not and she is––at least, I hope we’re still friends. I, uh, kinda messed it up.”
“What’d you do?”
“Made a scene when I found her talking to some guy. I just…snapped––” My eyes skirt the edge of the window while my hand nervously runs through my hair. “And I think she likes him,” I glumly admit, my face puckering in bitterness.
