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“That’s awesome,” Taylor says. “I hope you do it. I love cupcakes. Red velvet with the creamy icing is my favorite.”
“I use buttercream for all of my cupcakes,” I admit. “It takes me longer to make, but it’s so worth it. The flavor is better.”
“I could see the yuppies downtown buying fancy cupcakes,” Bex says.
I sigh. “If only I could afford the rent.”
“Have you thought about a food truck?” Taylor suggests.
I shake my head. “No, I haven’t, but I like the idea. Do you think I could sell cupcakes and pastries from a truck?”
“People sell cheesesteaks and fruit from them,” Bex says. “I don’t see why you couldn’t do it with cupcakes.”
“I was thinking about calling it Shake-n-Cake,” I say. “What do you think of the name?”
Taylor’s face brightens. “I love it.” Her voice reaches a higher octave. “So cute.”
“Me, too,” Bex says, a hint of a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. “It’s catchy. I like it.”
Taylor crosses her legs and leans back in her chair. “Well, if you open your own store, you better invite me.”
A cell phone buzzes on the table, and Taylor lifts it to check the message. Her nose scrunches as she reads it. “Drake says Preston is finally eating with them. He hasn’t done that since before the Boston game.”
Bex rolls her shoulders, staring out the long window that spans the wall next to our table.
“That means he’ll apologize soon,” Taylor adds.
“We’ll see,” Bex says, devoid of emotion. “But I’m glad he’s feeling better.”
“So…” Taylor says, looking at me, “… you and Jamie. What’s going on with him? Are you gonna get back together?”
“He’s in love with his girlfriend,” I whisper.
She seems confused. “Jamie doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
“Yes, he does. Cece. The girl he got caught kissing. Even The Queen called him out for it.”
“That girl is his ex,” Bex says. “Preston hates her. He said she’s trying to ruin Jamie’s life.”
Shit. So, he was telling the truth? Maybe I jumped to conclusions a little too fast because of my fear of getting hurt. My fear that a guy like Jamie is too good for me. That he’ll leave me for his trophy girl.
“What’s she doing to him?” I ask.
“Her dad is buying his dad’s company,” Bex says. “Preston said Jamie’s a mess over it. He’s kind of paranoid. Jamie thinks The Queen has something to do with it.”
I slide my chair closer to the table and lower my voice. “Why would she care about his dad’s company?”
Bex holds her palms up and shrugs. “Not sure. Preston didn’t get into it. He said Jamie has a conspiracy theory about The Queen. Sounds like he’s losing his mind over it.”
“Poor Jamie,” I say, now feeling bad for turning my back on him. “You think I should talk to him? I told him not to call me. He’s kept his distance.”
“Call him,” Taylor says. “Or text. What’s the worst that can happen?”
He could tell me to fuck off. Like I did to him.
It feels weird to hang out with the girlfriends of Jamie’s friends, but I like being around them. Jamie respected my wishes, and he hasn’t called or texted in over a month. I know what I said, but a small part of me had hoped he’d at least try.
Bex and Taylor fill me in on everything I missed. I already knew about Jemma being pregnant since I’m her Kappa Delta Big Sister. From the sounds of it, Jamie has a lot going on. His entire life has been uprooted since right after Christmas. And now, all of his teammates are going through their own transitions.
I want to reach out to Jamie.
I miss him so damn much.
But I’m so afraid he’ll hurt me again.
Chapter Nineteen
Jamie
I hear someone shout my name from across the street. Looking over my shoulder, I find Tucker with his arms raised above his head to flag me down.
“I gotta get to class,” I call over to him.
He lowers his arms to his sides and shakes his head. “No, get over here.”
“I can’t. I’m gonna be late.”
“It’s important.” Tucker motions for me to meet him in front of Penn Hall.
He looks serious, so I hurry over to the other side of the street. “I can’t be late. What’s up?”
Tucker hands me a crumpled slip of white paper. “I got The Queen’s e-mail address.”
I snatch it from his fingers and stare down at the address in surprise. “How did you get it?”
“Someone who gives her info had it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And how did you get it?”
He shrugs. “You know me. I have my ways.”
“Are you sure it’s legit?” Tucker nods, and I continue, “It could be complete bullshit.”
“Trust me. This is her e-mail address.” He slaps me on the back. “Now, go find her.”
“This might not be enough,” I admit.
He shoves his hands into the pockets of his track pants and shrugs. “It’s better than nothing, right?”
