Crazy Pucking Love (Taking Shots)

by Cindi Madsen

  “I meant with the cops busting her—I’ve kept her safe from the other at least, and I swear I will.”

  Just the thought of what could happen—of the life-destroying fire she was playing with—sent every protective impulse into overdrive. “I know you’ll mean to. But I’d feel better if both of you stayed away from that crowd. If you found healthier hobbies.”

  “Like hockey?” The attitude was back, the lip-purse in full effect. Even before I left for BC, Jazmine occasionally referred to hockey as the other woman in our relationship.

  “Hey, don’t slam it until you try it.”

  The door banged open, and Mom poked her head out. “I made you some lun—oh, hey, Jazmine.”

  “Mrs. Kowalski.”

  “You want lunch? It’s nothing fancy—just sandwiches.”

  Jazmine stood and brushed off the seat of her jeans. “No thanks. I better get home.” She took a step and abruptly turned back to my mom, a grave expression on her face. “I’m sorry about Lissa. It’s my fault, and I feel horrible.”

  Mom pressed her lips into a tight line. “I know you’ve got a lot on your plate, but honey, I’m afraid she’s not going to be able to hang out with you for quite some time.”

  Jazmine nodded, hung her head, and slowly walked away.

  Even after all we’d been through, I still had to fight the urge to run after her and try to make it better. Which just showed how little I could trust my instincts whenever I was around Jazmine.

  I wanted to help my family, but I also wanted to get out of here as fast as I possibly could. Before I got sucked back into the drama.

  Not that I was doing so great at avoiding it in Boston, and a voice that clearly hated me whispered I should stop selfishly holding on to Megan before I ended up hurting her, too.

  Chapter Thirty

  Megan

  The robust flavor of the coffee promised the kick I craved, but so far I wasn’t feeling invigorated, or awake, or anything but melancholy.

  Since Dane wasn’t here to do it for me, I pilfered the sugar from the caddy on the next table over. I added those four packets to the other four I’d already stirred into the dark brown liquid and took a sip.

  Tasted nice and sweet, but I didn’t feel an empowering jolt.

  I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Dane’s number, my finger hovering over the message bubble. Then I remembered coming around the corner of the high school to hear Brandon, my asshole ex, telling the guys how many texts I’d sent him.

  “Wow, you must’ve rocked her world,” Asshole Number Two said.

  “Not really,” I’d said, forcing my voice to be firm so it wouldn’t crack and give away the hurt spreading through my chest. “But he’s pretty good at cuddling, so I hoped the other would improve over time.”

  Asshole Two and Asshole Three scattered, snickering as they went on their way.

  And how had my boyfriend defended himself? He shrugged and said, “Sorry, babe. I was kind of over us anyway.” Or in other words, “I got what I wanted and now I’m out”—I still regretted not putting Beckett’s punching lessons to use that morning.

  Not a week later Asshole Two asked me if I wanted to “hang out,” his stupid expression making it clear he thought I’d be an easy hookup. Judging by the way several other guys approached me after that, word had obviously spread—one of my so-called friends told me a group of guys had started a competition about who could sleep with me next. Which led to the party with the drunken video and puking on the lawn incident. It also upgraded the spark of an idea about escaping the crap by getting my GED and starting college earlier to a full-blown outlined plan.

  I dropped my head onto my open textbook, like that would dislodge the bad memories and expel them for good. The point was, those events shook my confidence, and I tried to tell myself that Dane wasn’t over me now that we’d had sex. After all, he’d missed class today. That spoke to something bigger going on in his life.

  I wanted to check in, but I thought of those guys mocking my multiple texts, and how pushing for more information wouldn’t be casual, light, and fun behavior.

  With a groan, I sat up and stared at the equations until they blurred into illegible lines. Not even math could save my mood. Especially since I’d kinda sorta come to the diner in hopes of running into Dane. We could study, score some field goals with sweetener packets, and all would be right with the world.

  Instead it was all wrong.

  Determined not to turn into the girl who sat and did nothing while feeling sorry for herself, I picked my phone back up and scrolled to a different name.

  Me: I need a break.

  Lyla: From studies?

  Me: From everything. I’m sure you’re busy, but I could really use a movie night like we used to have.

  Lyla: Well, get over here, then! I could use one, too.

  Relief filled me, my outlook on everything a little rosier. Thank goodness for Lyla. Vanessa had kept me sane yesterday, but she had a test to study for tonight, and said she planned on going to bed early.

  I gathered my stuff, picked up snacks on the way, making sure to grab the sour gummy worms Lyla liked, and climbed the stairs to her apartment complex fast enough my thighs burned. So did my face, but that was more from the chill in the air.

  Lyla hugged me and directed me to the couch. A bowl of buttery popcorn sat on the coffee table already, making the place smell like a movie theater. She held up two movies. “So we’ve got Pitch Perfect, or Friends with Benefits.”

  “Love both, but Pitch Perfect is totally perfect for what I’m in the mood for.” While I enjoyed looking at Justin Timberlake and all, Friends with Benefits would only remind me of my current situation with Dane, and I’d either end up crying over the thought he and I would never be more because real life wasn’t like the movies, or let hope carry me away into dangerous false-expectations territory.

  “Okay, but just so you know, I sometimes sing, and as Beck likes to point out, I don’t always sing the right lyrics.”

  “I’m okay with that. I’m tone-deaf, so I’ll get the lyrics right, but it’ll sound horrible.”

  “Sounds like we’ll make a killer duet,” Lyla joked.

  We settled in, and halfway through the movie, her fluffy gray and white cat, Einstein, curled up between us. Lyla scratched under his chin while I petted his back and played with his tail, and he purred loudly.

  As the credits filled the screen and the bass of the music thumped through the room, rejuvenating resolve pumped through me. I could do this college thing. Sure, I’d like a swoony guy to kiss at the end of the day, but I didn’t need him in order to be strong.

  I wrapped my arm around Lyla and leaned my head on her shoulder—I needed her, no question. “Thanks for tonight.”

  Einstein perked his head up, looking slightly confused about where he was and why his personal space was being crowded, but then he stretched and went back to his nap.

  “Anytime.” Lyla patted my leg. “Wanna talk about whatever’s bugging you?”

  For a moment I considered it. But I hated to put her in a position of keeping secrets from my brother—and I hated to think what would happen if she slipped and told him even more. Beckett would probably snap and go after Dane, who’d be super confused, because I wasn’t sure we were anything more than friends right now.

  Then he’d definitely avoid me—no more texts, and no more hanging out.

  For the record, I’d still be strong whatever happened. Because even though Me – Dane = longing, with a side of misery, Me – Dane + girl time & realizing my happiness & future was up to me = I’d be okay.

  I tucked one of my legs under me. “Like I said, I just needed a break.”

  “Have you talked to Karen recently?” Lyla asked.

  Crap. She called earlier, but I was so disappointed she wasn’t Dane that I sent her to voicemail. My…well, she wasn’t my stepmom, although she had been with my dad for a while and she was the mother of my half sister. Yet she wasn’t ex
actly just his mistress, either. Complicated—that was the best word for everything surrounding her. “I haven’t. Is everything okay with her and Avery?”

  “Yeah, they’re fine. She’s having a birthday party for Avery two weekends from now and wanted to know if we’d come. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Beck about it yet—this day was super crazy and I was in the lab until right before you called. But she said she even checked Beck’s game schedule and made sure he didn’t have one that day.”

  “Which makes it hard to say no,” I said. “She’s really good at that.”

  “If she wasn’t so nice, I’d say she’d learned tactics from the Art of War or something. I know that she means well. She just doesn’t exactly understand how hard it is for Beck to go down there, even if he doesn’t have a game.”

  I snagged one of the neon gummy worms left in the packet, even though I’d cut myself off from more sugar a good twenty minutes ago. “Do you and Beckett have trouble finding time to spend together?”

  “Yeah. It’s a constant battle. I’m studying, or he is, or practice and games, and sometimes we’ll go a couple weeks where the only time we really spend together is spent sleeping. Mostly sleeping.” Lyla blushed. “Sorry. TMI.”

  “It’s nothing I don’t already know. You’re forgetting I lived with you guys all last summer.” Not that I wanted to discuss it in detail, but I could handle the mention of it.

  Lyla’s blush deepened. “I do sometimes miss when we had more free time—that last part of summer was so amazing.” She sighed and went to that twitterpated and crazy-in-love place I witnessed during those six weeks. Honestly, last summer was the first time I felt wanted in so long that I loved those days, too. “But he’s also super happy during hockey season, and I enjoy watching him play. With school, I’m also crazy busy with my studies, and it’s actually a good thing he has away games here and there, or I’d probably never force myself to get in all the studying I need to.”

  “I get that. Sometimes I feel like I don’t have enough hours in the day to get everything I need to done, and I’m not even in sports.”

  “This wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with a certain dark-haired winger, would it?” Lyla asked.

  My first instinct was to deny, deny, deny. But I knew Lyla would read through it, so I went with the half-truth. “Dane and I are friends.”

  “Mm-hm. I’ve been friends with a hockey player before, so I know how that goes.”

  “You mean you start dreaming about kissing him all the time, and then you lose track of where the line is, and you’re not even sure you care anymore? But you’re not exactly sure what he’s thinking, which drives you that much crazier?”

  Lyla nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’ve totally been there.”

  I bit my lip and twisted my earring. “Please don’t tell Beckett.”

  “That privilege is all yours. I’ll be there to try to keep him…”

  “Calm?”

  “I was going to go with less murdery. I know better than to promise the impossible.”

  I winced. “Well, there’s nothing to tell him now. I’m not sure it’ll turn into anything more.”

  “If I hadn’t noticed him checking you out, or the way his eyes lit up when he sat next to you the other night, I might agree. But I don’t think you’re alone on wanting to cross lines.”

  Should I tell her we’ve already done some line crossing? Vanessa knew the details, but they were such amazing details, I sort of wanted to shout them from the rooftops. But I totally wouldn’t, because that’d be awkward afterward, and then I’d need to start over somewhere new again, and ain’t nobody got time for that.

  “And I don’t want to put myself in the middle of things, because I’m afraid I steered Whitney wrong for a while…” Lyla wound her hair into a bun, grabbed a pen, and stabbed it through the mess of hair to keep it in place. “So I’m just going to tell you to be careful. For the record, I’d tell you that about any college guy. It’s a different world than high school.”

  “My high school world was horrible. Everyone knew everything, I didn’t have any genuine friends, and my last boyfriend just used me—so I sure as hell hope it’s a different world.” Even though those subjects usually caused me pain, a different memory from the first night Dane and I met popped into my head, taking the edge off. He’d made me swear an oath of secrecy before confessing his Gilmore Girls addiction, making sure to add it was his sisters’ fault.

  How could I not fall for that?

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Megan

  Big surprise, Tuesday night wanted to be as difficult as last night, and the night before that. I kicked off my stifling covers. Within ten seconds or so, goose bumps covered my legs, the cold sinking deeper into my skin and traveling up my body. So I reached for my discarded sheet and comforter and pulled them back over me. I rolled to my side. Then I punched my pillow into a fluffier, firmer shape and flipped to the other side, hoping it’d magically lull me to sleep.

  After several minutes of closing my eyes as tightly as I could—like that ever worked—I gave up and reached for my phone. Staring at the bright screen often only woke me up more, but I was about to go insane.

  I shot up when I saw the text message alert, along with Dane’s name and the words “You up?” Twenty-two minutes ago. See, this is why I shouldn’t attempt to sleep when I know it’s not happening.

  Please, please be awake still. For a second I felt guilty for even wishing it, because the proper amount of sleep was important and all, but after three days of wondering, I needed the peace of mind.

  Me: Please say you’re still up.

  Before I hit send, I decided that sounded too desperate, so I backspaced and started over, adopting a more casual, cool tone and trying to add a joke in the mix.

  Me: As usual, sleep and I aren’t friends. Are you fighting with her, too?

  I held my breath, watching the screen and silently praying for that bubble with the three little dots.

  When it came up, I let out a little squeal, and Vanessa stirred. But she simply rolled over and continued on sleeping—I was jealous of her ability to not only sleep through noise, but also how it took her all of three seconds to fall asleep. We’d start conversations while drifting off, and she’d crash halfway through, leaving me to finish the discussion by myself, which didn’t exactly make my sanity level look very stable.

  Dane: I believe you said it best when you called her a bitch.

  Meet me at the diner? I’m already there, so I’ll order you coffee. And fries. I’d hate for you to run out of fuel ;)

  To anyone else, the text would probably look like a classic booty call, but we were late-night, insomniac friends, so this stretch of night was our home base. Truthfully, I’d take a booty call right now, as long as he let me in a little, the way we’d talked about.

  Me: I’ll see you soon.

  As quickly as I could, I threw on jeans and a vintage T-shirt. Since my hair was a mess from all the tossing and turning, I pulled it into a sloppy bun. I jumped on one foot while trying to get my hot pink chucks on and slammed into my desk, bruising the same hip that my desk apparently had a vendetta against.

  I swore and then froze—Vanessa didn’t even move. I almost didn’t bother with earrings, but it felt like going out half-naked. Plus, Dane had a habit of playing with them, and I had a habit of swooning over it. I grabbed my safety pin pair, thinking they’d add a bit of a rocker edge to my outfit. They looped through the ear, and a chain with a tiny skull and heart hung from the bejeweled fastener.

  One of my former “friends” had called them disturbing, which made me second-guess if they were the right pair for my reunion with Dane. Then I remembered I didn’t care about her opinion—I liked them, and that was all that mattered.

  A spritz of perfume and a quick swipe of lip gloss followed by popping an Altoid, and I was out the door.

  My nerves tugged and twisted, a mix of excited and anxious as I approached the diner a short dr
ive later. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d spent a lot of time riding an emotional rollercoaster the past few days because of the boy waiting inside, and for all I knew, he’d go back to insisting we could only be friends.

  Could I do that? Pretend we hadn’t crossed the line?

  Strong or not, it’d crush me a little, and I didn’t think things would ever be the same. Once you saw someone naked, things just changed.

  I sucked in a lungful of cool night air and held it for a second before exhaling a puff of white. As soon as I opened the door, I spotted him, seated in his usual booth. My heart thumped in my chest. One beat, then two, then three…

  He glanced up and our gazes met. My stomach jumped into my throat and I fought the urge to run to him. I didn’t know how I could miss someone I’d known for such a short time so much, but I had.

  One corner of his mouth kicked up, sending my pulse off and running.

  He stood, took three long strides, and then I was in his arms, and all my worries melted away. In this moment, everything was right with the world, and that made me wish for it to never end.

  “Man, it’s good to see you,” he said.

  “Right back at you.” I ran my hand down the side of his face and he closed his eyes and sighed. Then he dipped his head and brushed his lips over mine, eliciting a rush of tingles that traveled way down to my toes.

  I read that signal as go for launch with the kissing, so I parted my lips and kissed him with everything that’d been building up in me for days, basking in how tightly he held me as he enthusiastically returned the gesture.

  Slowly, he lowered me to my feet and grabbed my hand. He sat back down at the table, pulling me with him so that we were side by side in the booth.

  Larry showed up with a cup of coffee and a plate of fries, and I inhaled the delicious fried scent of my “fuel.” He glanced at Dane’s almost empty coffee cup. “You need a refill?” He curled the pot closer to him, like he hoped he’d say no.

  “I think I’m good for now, thanks.”