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“I don’t want to know where Bryce screwed whoever he screwed,” I said hotly, reaching for my bra and shirt.
“Come on, Taryn,” Tray reasoned, grabbing my hand and crawling to sit on top of me. “Stop. Come on. I’m sorry, I won’t ever utter his name again, not when we’re doing this.”
“One, that should be a given. And two, only when we’re doing this?”
“Oh come on!” Tray cried out, standing and shooting me a glare. “He’s my friend. You’re—”
“I know,” I finally said.
Tray sunk onto the couch beside me. “Taryn, I’m like Bryce. At least I was, before you and me. And I’ll probably be like him if you and I—,” end, but he didn’t want to say the word, “someday in the future.” He grinned and then climbed over me.
“You’re not like that with me because you wouldn’t get away with it,” I retorted, folding my arms across my chest. Fully knowing how ridiculous I looked, sulking like a child with Tray straddling me. I even had the pout on my face.
Tray chuckled, grinning down at me. “Yeah, you’re right about that. And if I ever did, you’d probably lock me out of my own house and get the cops to arrest me on burglary charges.”
He must’ve seen I was softening because he caught my hands and raised them above my head. Leaning down, his lips a mere centimeter away from mine, he whispered, “But you won’t ever do it, because while I’m with you, I won’t treat people like that. I fully know how you’d hand me my ass.”
I couldn’t stop the grin on my face. He swooped in for a kiss, deepening it instantly.
Before long, I was melting all over again, wrapped around him as he slid into me.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The rest of the day was nice. Tray and I even watched an entire movie. Later, we moved into the pool-house and, of course, spent most of the time fooling around on the couch.
His phone rang a few times—okay—it rang a lot. But Tray put it away after the sixth call. The first few had been the guys, wanting to grab a burger. The last was from Amber. I cringed, hearing her voice on the phone—she wasn’t happy.
That was an understatement.
He finally put the phone on silent and left it on the counter. Every now and then we’d hear the voice message alarm, letting us know another person had left a message.
But it went ignored.
We fooled around, watched a movie, swam a bit—we’d started a race, but Tray quit early on. I taunted him as I swam my laps and he cannon-bombed me at different points.
Around ten-thirty that night, I glanced at my phone and realized Mandy had called six times within the past twenty minutes.
Probably wanting to bitch at me. I’d already called home and told Shelley that I was going to Pedlam to check on my friend and that I’d be sleeping at a friend’s house tonight.
Tray talked me into staying the night, after all my car was already at school. He might as well just give me a ride there in the morning. I had clothes in my gym locker and he had all the other essentials at his house.
“What?” Tray asked, watching me frown at my phone.
“Mandy called.”
“So?” He sat up beside me and grabbed for the phone. “When don’t they call? Just ignore it.”
“I know,” I replied. “But she doesn’t call this much; once or twice maybe, not six times in a row.”
“So call her,” he suggested, “and then once she starts in, hang up.”
“Oh and it’s so easy,” I mocked, shaking my head.
Tray lunged at me, wrapping his arms around me and tossing me back on the couch, him on top of me—his favorite position.
Laughing, I pressed her number on speed-dial as I tried to wrestle my way out of his arms.
“Taryn!” Mandy yelled into the phone. I could hear blaring music in the background.
