Reasons I Fell for the Funny Fat Friend - By Becca Ann Page 0,52
and tryin’ to keep dry under the very little covering the garage has.
Holy shit.
I slam on the brakes and back up. Then I park the big truck against the curb. I’m texting and sprinting at the same time, tellin’ Quynn I won’t be there, then jammin’ my phone in my pocket before lifting a soaking wet chin up so her eyes meet mine.
“Hayles, what the h—?”
“B-Brody? What are y-you doing h-here?”
“Are you locked out?”
She nods, teeth chattering as her whole body goes into tremors.
“Why didn’t you call someone?”
She tucks her hand in her pocket, pullin’ out her phone. “W-waterlogged.”
Crap, is this what happened before?
“When will your mom be home?”
She shrugs… I think. She’s shivering too much for me to tell. I grab her and pull her to her feet.
“Come on. I’m takin’ you to my house.”
She doesn’t argue, but she doesn’t let me hold on to her either. She curls into herself and I can’t be sure, because of the rain, but I think she’s cryin’.
The heater’s up all the way as I go back to my house, tryin’ not to hydroplane. When we get there, she still won’t let me touch her. Just walks alongside me and stands in my doorway while I run to get her a towel.
“You know what?” I say after tryin’ to dry her off, and it not working at all. “Just go take a warm shower.”
Her eyes flick up to meet mine. Those sexy eyes I’ve been thinkin’ about. “Y-your p-parents w-won’t m-mind?”
Wish she’d let me rub her arms. She’s freezin’. “They’re not here. Please, go warm up.”
“I-I don’t h-have any e-extra clothes.”
“You can borrow some of mine, and I’ll stick yours in the dryer.”
She rolls her eyes and attempts a smile. “I-I won’t f-fit in y-your clothes.”
“Knock it off.” I go for her hand, but she pulls it out of my way. “Go take a shower, all right? I’ll give you a sweater and some pants and I guarantee they’ll be fine.”
She shakes her head, but goes upstairs to the bathroom while I run and grab the cleanest stuff I can find.
“Here,” I say as I open the door a crack to hand her my clothes. When I feel the weight off my arm I pull it back out and leave her to it. I hear a small ‘thanks’ before I get back downstairs.
This is the part where I speed clean. After getting into some dry clothes of my own of course. Livin’ by myself for the past few days made the whole house try to do an ass room impression. I get the couch cleared off and the kitchen sink emptied, then hurry to my room to do a double check. And spray cologne all over it. Again, not like I’m expectin’ her to be in here, but what if she needs to stay the night? She can take my bed, and I’ll sleep in Mom and Dad’s. Or take the couch. No biggie.
I hear the water shut off just as I clear out the dryer so it’s open for her clothes. She’s goin’ to be wearin’ my underwear, my sweater, no bra. Whoa, things are shiftin’ around and I haven’t even seen her yet.
And damn it, I can’t be some horny jackhole right now. There’s somethin’ really screwed up goin’ on in her life, and she’s going to tell me about it. Even if I have to force her into twenty questions.
“Hey.”
She’s got an arm wrapped around her chest and the other holdin’ out her soggy clothes. The hoodie isn’t tight, not baggy, but not tight, and the pants fit. I give her an ‘I told you so’ look before grabbin’ her stuff and throwin’ it in the dryer. The bra misses, hittin’ the floor, and I quickly pick it up by two fingers and chuck it in, slamming the door behind it. She’s laughin’ at me as I start the dryer.
“It’s just a bra.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I motion her to the couch. “You want somethin’ to drink?” Dude this sounds familiar. Was doin’ this with another girl not five hours ago. But it’s different now.
“Something warm, please.”
“‘Course.”
Only thing I got is apple cider. I call from the kitchen to make sure she’s okay with that. She is, so I make two mugs and try to sit as close as she’ll allow me to.
“Ooh, yummy. Thank you.” She’s smilin’ her Hayles smile and tuggin’ at the hoodie.
“Is it itchy or somethin’?” I point to her stomach where she’s pullin’ the sweater away