by Tijan
“Thinking of the idea?”
“What?” He scratched behind his ear. “No. Not that.” He laughed. “But funny, though.”
Jordan took a big bite from the apple. “We’re going on a road trip!”
“Yeah, yeah.” Zellman leaned forward. “And we cleared it with the Mom and Pops.”
I felt the blood drain from my face. “Mom and Pops?”
Zellman’s eyebrows bunched together. “You know, Heather.” He indicated behind me, toward the bar. “And your brother. He knows we’re coming to get you. He agreed with us.”
“He did?”
My jaw was on the floor. I could’ve used it to sweep the floor.
Things were better with Channing. I didn’t ignore him when he talked to me now. But we had a long way to go.
“He did.” Zellman unfolded his arms and clapped me on the back. “Grab your tits! Let’s go.”
Jordan and Z headed back through the door. Only Cross registered the statement, and he waited until the door closed behind them. “If Alex Ryerson had said that, he’d be impaled with a knife already.”
I laughed, but my pulse had started to speed up. It was Cross and me again. We were alone. In a room.
I was already hot and bothered.
“I’ve heard him say the same thing to you.” That was Zellman’s phrase when he wasn’t thinking, was distracted by something else going on. “He doesn’t register that I actually have tits.”
Cross looked me up and down, lingering on my lips. “I’ve never had any trouble registering that.” He started toward me, but halted abruptly. His eyes dropped to my tits. “Yeah. Too soon here.” Walking backward, he winked as his back hit the screen door. “And just so we’re clear, I’m intending to grab your tits someday. I’ve been intending for a long time.”
He backed out and was off toward the guys.
A whole flurry of nerves, excitement, thrill, and fear plunged through me at breakneck speed. I took a moment for myself before I followed him out the door.
I’d known this side of Cross existed. He got the girls, and plenty of them—but being on the receiving end? Whoa.
I wasn’t sure I was prepared for what we were apparently going to do, but then I imagined the graze of his lips over mine again, and I knew. The train had already left the station. There was no going back.
Outside, Cross tried to go to his truck, but Jordan wasn’t having it.
He flung open the back door to his four-door pickup. “Come on.” He jerked his head toward the back. “I switched vehicles so we could do this crew style. You know what I mean.”
Which meant we were going all together.
Jordan got in, and Zellman lingered by the passenger door. When we did these trips, he usually sat in the back with either Cross or me. Sometimes I sat up front, but I usually sat in the back with Z. It was a hierarchy thing. Jordan drove because he thought he was the leader. Cross and I were on equal footing, though Cross might’ve been higher than me, but Zellman was the bottom. I didn’t understand who’d made up the hierarchy, but that’s how it was except no one cared much about it besides Jordan. However, on trips like this, Z always wanted to sit up front with Jordan.
Both Cross and I knew what he was going to ask as he pointed to the seat with his thumb. “Do you guys mind…”
“No,” Cross spoke for us. “Go for it.”
A huge smile broke out, and he hopped in, all gangly like.
“You okay with this trip?” Cross asked me before we got in.
I looked back over my shoulder. Channing hadn’t come into the kitchen, and neither had Scratch, but I guessed they knew. Jordan said he’d gotten it cleared, and I trusted him. He wouldn’t lie about something like that.
Then why did I feel weird? I studied Cross for a moment. This didn’t feel like him.
It was… I twisted back around to look at Tuesday Tits.
It hit me like a lightbulb going on—I didn’t want to let Channing down. I didn’t want to skip out if I really wasn’t supposed to go. As soon as I thought it, I started laughing. Relief flooded me, and I patted Cross on the arm.
“I’m good.” I moved toward the truck.
“You sure?” Cross went to the door behind Jordan, still watching me round the truck.
I nodded, a stupid and happy smile on my face. Even that felt weird. What the fuck was going on with me? But I felt lighter.
I got inside and closed my eyes as I felt the pickup start forward.
Normal Bren would’ve ditched without a second thought, but this new Bren, she was starting to care. And that should’ve worried me. It probably would later, but for now…
I looked at Cross. He’d been watching me, a confused look pulling his eyebrows together.
For now, I was okay.
“Can we talk about the elephant in the room?” Jordan asked.
He leaned forward to turn the music down. Radiohead had been filling the cab for the last hour and a half.
Cross and I shared a look.
“What elephant?” Cross grabbed the back of the seat in front of him and leaned forward. “What are you talking about?”
Jordan looked at us in the rearview mirror, focusing more on Cross. “I have to tell you something, and I’m wondering when’s the best time.”
Cross released their seat. He shifted a little closer to me, but he remained on his side. I stayed on mine.
My stomach was in knots.
What if we let people know about us and something happened to tear us apart? I didn’t know what or how, but it could happen. Hell, just life itself could do it. If I was happy, really happy, I was bound to lose him.
That thought dried my throat.
That couldn’t happen.
I didn’t even have him, and I was preparing for when I’d lose him. There was something wrong in that, but I couldn’t focus for a moment.
Cross’ hand covered mine. “Hey.”
I ripped my hand away from his. “Don’t!” I hissed.
I gritted my teeth. Shit. There it was. He’d be hurt. He’d be angry. I’d offended him. But I looked up, and nothing like that was there.
Instead, he wore his slight grin, and he pointed to Jordan. “The leader is speaking to you.”
“Shut up!” Jordan burst out. “You give me shit, but no one else is stepping up to the plate.”
“But how could we?” Cross sat forward, resting his arm on the back of their seat. “You’ve got all the bases covered. There’s no room. And how would we even step up? Mutiny?” Cross hit Zellman’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Would I have to recruit Z here? Maybe bribe him with a hundred bucks?”
“A hundred bucks? I’m more expensive than that.” Zellman shook his head.
“A hundred strippers?” Cross asked.
“Yeah.” Zellman bobbed his head, laughing. “I’d fold for a hundred strippers. Pussy heaven.”
“Hold your tits, Z.” Cross grinned.
Zellman tipped his head back, his grin widening. “Hold their tits, you mean?”
Jordan shook his head, grumbling, “You guys are stupid. You give me crap, but I have a role. I fulfill it.”
“What role is that?” I asked. “Our mouthpiece?”
“Yeah,” he shot back, watching me in the rearview mirror. “I step up. I defend you guys. You all are so damned quiet. Someone has to talk.”
Z was still grinning, shaking his head.
“So you fill the silence?” I asked. “That’s what you’re saying?”
Jordan was half-grinning now too. “I know, I know. You guys step up. If I weren’t around, you’d all be just fine, but stop giving me so much crap. I like to take charge. Sue me, but for real—I gotta say something here. You have to know.”
Z turned sideways, resting his arm on the back of the seat. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together, you two.”
I glanced at Cross. A foreboding expression pulled down his eyebrows. His mouth was in a flat line.
I nodded.
“Yeah. Why?”
Jordan and Zellman shared a look now.
“So this is kind of about Ryerson.” Jordan cleared his throat. “I didn’t know if I should say anything, but he’s dating someone. And—”
“Who?” I asked.
“Who?” Jordan parroted. “You fucking with me now? Race Ryerson. Douchebag’s cousin.”
“No. No.” I waved my hand in the air. “I got confused.” I was making a mess of this. I’d been so scared they were talking about Cross and me. He said Race was dating someone. “Who’s he dating?”
He adjusted in his seat, sitting up a little straighter. “This is going to be awkward.”
“What?” I was lost. “Why?”
Jordan looked from me to Cross in the rearview mirror, grimacing.
“Like Z said, Cross, you’ve been spending a lot of time with Bren lately. I mean, like, a lot.”
“What are you getting at?” Cross asked. His hand clenched into a fist, but he kept it on the seat between us.
I itched to take it, to soothe that frustration out, but I couldn’t. A rock had fully lodged in my chest. It was pressing against my sternum.
“I’m getting that you probably don’t know what I’m going to say.”
“What?” Cross demanded. “Get at your point, Jordan. I don’t like being yanked around.”
Z hissed, “Just tell them.”
Jordan paused a beat. “Taz.”
There was silence for another beat.
“What?!” Cross jerked forward.
“Race Ryerson is dating your sister. Taz.”
I… Nope. I had no words or thoughts. I… Nope. I still didn’t.
“That guy is with my sister? How do you know?”
“We saw ’em at the movies last night.”
Zellman shifted again so his back was against his door. “They were holding hands when they left.”
“We followed them to the country club in Fallen Crest,” Jordan said. “He took her to dinner there.”
Zellman nodded with every word Jordan said. “Yeah, like, literally wined and dined her, and he took her there. Of all places. The richest pricks’ place in Fallen Crest.” He nodded to Cross. “Might want to check her, make sure her head’s not getting big if she’s hanging at spots like that. Though I gotta say, if I were him, I’d go with Taz as a second option too. Who else is he going to tap? Monica’s still hung up on Cross. B was his first choice, and I’m tapping Sunday. Taz is good quality. She’s girlfriend material. I can see why he picked her.”
“Could you stop using the word tap and my sister in the same sentence?” Cross’ eyes narrowed. “He probably took her there because he knew none of our crew would be there.”
“Sorry,” Z said to Cross. “The dude’s rich, isn’t he?” he asked me. “His dad owns a Harley store?”
I shrugged. I didn’t care. I was more worried about Cross. “You didn’t know?”
“Every free moment I have, I’m with you, but she has been asking about you.” He gave me a meaningful look, and I flashed back to our conversation at Tuesday Tits.
“Maybe it wasn’t all about the charity thing.”
“What charity thing?” Z’s eyes darted between us.
“I don’t know yet.”
I could feel Jordan’s attention. He’d dropped the bomb. He was waiting for it to detonate.
I glanced to Cross. It was his sister.
He clenched his jaw and sat back, looking out the window.
His silence was telling.
“Let’s lay off it,” I told Jordan. “How far till we get wherever we’re going?”
He’d been studying Cross in the mirror, but looked at the clock on the dashboard. “I think another hour.”
This ride wasn’t going to get any better.
I pulled out my phone and headphones.
A little while later, Jordan pulled into a fast food place. The guys had been complaining about being hungry and needing to piss. The two 20-ouncers that’d been filled up with coffee and soda hadn’t helped either.
Jordan and Zellman hopped out right away, running inside.
Cross and I moved at a slower pace.
“You upset about Taz?” I asked him as we got out.
Resting his arms on the truck’s back-end, he glanced down a moment. He shook his head, still looking at the ground. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”
I paused and waited for him.
He looked back up, a smile flashing for a moment as he stared at me. “Been distracted with you, honestly.”
Those flutters started again, tickling me on the inside.
The lines around his mouth softened, and he reached forward, grabbing my arm. He tugged me over to him, but I glanced back at the building. Jordan and Zellman were at the counter, ordering. Pee breaks could wait, apparently.
Knowing they were distracted, at least for the moment, I succumbed.
I let Cross pull me toward the front of the pickup so we were hidden, and he wrapped his arms around me. My head rested against his chest, and he held me as I slid my arms around his waist.
We’d done this hug before, so many times, but this was different. This hold, this touch, what it stood for—it was all so very different.
The flutters were building again.
I felt his voice rumble through his chest. “We’re going to have to have the talk. You know that, right?”
I nodded, my head moving against his chest. “I know.”
He ran a hand up and down my arm. He leaned back against the truck and opened his legs a little wider. I scooted in closer and felt him resting his head against mine.
“We’ll have to tell them too.”
“Later,” I responded. We’d deal with it then. I closed my eyes until we heard Zellman calling our names.
I stepped back and Cross moved around me.
“We’re coming,” he yelled.
“You want us to order your food?”
Cross turned to me, and I nodded. They knew what we liked.
“Yeah. Give us another minute,” Cross yelled back.
“Will do! B, you want a soda?”
“Yeah!” I yelled. “Thanks, Z.”
He waved at us distractedly before going back in.
I didn’t return to Cross’ arms, and he leaned back against the truck, eyeing me.
I frowned. “What?”
He jutted his chin toward me. “Why aren’t you freaking? You’d usually be freaking right now.”
I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too tired?”
“Bullshit.” He tilted his head to the side. “What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t know. Really.”
“Bren.”
“Really.” I laughed. “I don’t know. Something’s different. Maybe it was me stabbing the principal, or maybe I don’t know. I really don’t.”
But I felt good, better. I was going with that. Things didn’t scare me as much. I felt better. Life wasn’t as bleak, though it probably should’ve been if history was the best prediction of the future. I should be scared as hell.
“I didn’t go to jail. That’s it.”
He laughed shortly. “I doubt it. You wouldn’t have cared if you went in there.”
I should’ve, but he was right. I wouldn’t have four months ago. And that told me how much I did care now. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“You haven’t gone to watch the house since the incident either.”
Ah.
There was the underlying reason he wanted to talk. Not about us, but about me.
Some of the flutters dissipated, and I bit my lip. “We’re talking about that stuff now?”
“I envision a lot of kissing for us in the future, so yeah. Let’s do this now. I’d ask you anyway. I mean, I might not say it outright, but I’d still ask.”
“About kissing?”
His eyes darkened, but his mouth lifted. “You know what I mean. Do you think we should talk about it?”
<
br /> About us, about me, about everything. He was asking about everything.
I had a different opinion. “Nope. I’m good.”
“Bren.” He reached for me.
I stepped back, evading him. “I like what we’re doing. You’re right. I would normally be running for the hills or looking for fights, but I’m not. I don’t want to force anything.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t lose you.”
“Why do you think you’d lose me?”
I didn’t want to open old wounds and go back to where I’d been before I stabbed Principal Neeon. “Just… Don’t push, okay? Not with that.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I won’t.”
Some of the knots in my chest loosened.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” Jordan yelled from the fast food place.
Cross and I shared a grin, and he moved around me once more. “Talking about my sister. Chill out. We’re coming.”
Cross fell in step beside me. I felt us falling back into our old roles. We were beginning to be more, but he was my best friend first. That’s what I needed at the moment.
“What town are we even in?” I asked as we went inside.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Jordan, where are we at?”
We headed for their booth.
I should’ve had my first clue when Jordan went unnaturally still at Cross’ question.
I should’ve had my second clue when Jordan paled, and his eyes widened.
I should’ve had my third clue when his eyes didn’t go to Cross, but to me.
But nope. I didn’t catch any of those clues.
I’d been happy. I’d been distracted by how I wasn’t unhappy, I wasn’t in so much pain, I was starting to care about things.
None of that clicked until we reached the booth.
Jordan gulped, crumpling up his sandwich wrapper, and said, “Potomahmen.”
Everything connected, in a slow and almost morbid way.
I was sucker-punched, by my own crew.
Because Potomahmen was the city that housed my dad’s prison.
Cross swore.
Zellman frowned.
And Jordan paled.
That was all I needed to see. Guilt. He did this on purpose.