My Rebound (On My Own #2) - Carrie Ann Ryan Page 0,54
that, but his eyes warmed, and I swallowed hard.
I had no idea what the two of us were doing. I wasn’t good at this, and I wasn’t sure I would ever be good at it.
This was only supposed to be for fun. It wasn’t supposed to turn serious. But here we were, sharing secrets. Sharing everything. I didn’t know what I would have done if something worse had happened to Pacey. How had these feelings developed so quickly?
I squeezed his hand, said my goodbyes, and walked out to the waiting room.
He was only supposed to be my rebound. I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.
One didn’t fall for a rebound. That was an unspoken rule.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
“Mackenzie,” Nessa said as she ran towards me. “What happened?” She squeezed my hands, her eyes wild. “Talk to us.”
“He has a cold or something. His lungs needed more air, and he passed out.” I explained about the ambulance ride but didn’t give them details. That would be up to Pacey.
“Can we see him?”
The nurse who had walked me in shook her head. I hadn’t realized she was right behind me. “Unfortunately, visiting hours are over, but you can come back tomorrow. Although he should be out by then, so you can all go home.”
I didn’t miss the look Nessa gave me or the disappointment on her face.
We would have to talk because I didn’t want to lose my friend, nor did I want Pacey to lose her.
“Did you drive here?” Tanner asked, his gaze on mine. I shook my head. “No, I rode in the ambulance.”
“Well, most of us drove in separately since we were all in different places. I can give you a ride home.”
I looked at the others and nodded. “My stuff’s still at your place.”
“We can pick it up. We’ve got you. Come on. It’s been a long day.”
I swallowed hard, hugged everyone—including Nessa—on my way out, and made my way to Tanner’s car.
“She’ll be okay,” Tanner spoke after a moment of silence. I looked up at him as I slid into the car.
“What?”
“Nessa. It’s just a crush. She thinks it’s love, but it’s just a crush.”
“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” I muttered. I was already uneasy, and this wasn’t helping.
“Well, someone needs to say it. Us all pretending it’s not a thing will only get someone hurt in the end.”
“This isn’t the time. I don’t think my brain can handle much more.”
He nodded. “I understand. But she’ll be okay. She doesn’t hate you.”
“She doesn’t?” I asked, my voice cracking.
“No, she doesn’t even blame you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
“That’s not very helpful,” I whispered.
“Probably not, but it’s the truth. You’ll figure it out.”
“You sure are talkative tonight,” I said snidely. Tanner rarely spoke to me—or anyone for that matter.
He shrugged as he pulled onto the highway. “I say what I have to. I like Pacey. And Nessa. And you.” He shot me a look, and I lowered my head. “It’s okay that we’re all still figuring shit out.”
“You say that, and yet I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“And that’s fine,” Tanner said. “You’re allowed not to know yet. But Pacey’s going to be okay. And so is Nessa. And so are you.”
Before I could think about anything to say to that, my phone buzzed. I looked at it quickly, hoping it was Pacey.
But it was a number I didn’t want to see.
Sanders: We need to talk.
I rolled my eyes and nearly growled.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just Sanders, saying we should talk.”
“You should ignore him.”
My phone buzzed again.
Sanders: It’s important. I wouldn’t text you if it weren’t. I need to talk to you.
Me: Okay, when?
“Damn it.”
“What’s wrong?” Tanner asked again.
“He’s saying it’s really important.”
“As in an emergency, like you need to go over there right now?” he asked, a little anger in his voice.
“I don’t know.”
Sanders: We can meet on Friday. During your open period? We need to meet.
“Well, apparently, he wants to meet on Friday so it can’t be that big of an emergency. But hell, I haven’t talked to him since the whole blowjob thing,” I growled.
“Oh, yes, the time my fist finally got to hit his face. It was nice.”
I snorted, glaring at Tanner. “Nice?”
“I try.”
I sighed. “I should just get this over with. One last hurrah of: ‘Get the fuck away from me.’”
“That’s my girl,” he said, and I snorted.
Me: Okay. Friday.
Sanders: See you then.
I slid my phone back into my purse and pinched the bridge of my nose.