THE CRAZY GOOD SERIES - Rachel Robinson Page 0,241

Morganna,” Lainey hisses. I didn’t expect sympathy, but I surely didn’t expect this.

I force a mouthful of tea down my throat. “I’m not perfect. Despite popular opinion.” I fake a smile.

She shakes her head. “I got the scoop from Cody and I’m appalled at your childish it’s not you, it’s me routine. On chat. What’s really up?” Others speaking of it makes it sound that much worse. I’m not allowed to have a weak moment; it’s the only sound conclusion. Fake Morganna doesn’t get any breaks.

I can’t pretend her words don’t pierce or that I’m intrigued by finding out what else she knows. She has an in with Cody. I need her to tell me everything about post-breakup Steven without actually asking. “It’s complicated, Lainey. I told myself I’d never do this again. I’d never willingly fall for someone who is in a dangerous line of work. Can you blame me, really? I fell hard. I feel deep. Because Steven and I were friends for so long before, it felt like the natural progression. Swept away, I forgot…until he deployed, that it wasn’t normal. Stone and Steven are…” My voice breaks.

“They’re similar. I get it. It’s wrong to punish Steve for something he can’t control. Personally, I think you’re insane. Steve would do anything for you. Steve isn’t Stone, Morg. You know why? He’s alive.”

My heart feels like it may bounce out of my chest. Heartbreak wars with love and I want to clasp my chest to make sure it stays in place.

All I can do is nod. “Well aware of that fact.” She waits for more, but I’m not giving anything else. I don’t have anything else to give. To anyone.

“You saw the news. They’re all safe. One of them is sad and angry like a bull, but safe,” she says, smashing around her lemon water with the straw. Good lord, an angry Steven is a volatile, unpredictable person. The one I can’t gauge. I close my eyes and rub my temples. I did watch the news with their usual vague details. The media usually screws around with the story until it fits their liking, so I take it with a grain of salt until I hear from the guys. Something I haven’t done yet.

“He saved the woman. He was on his A game. Everyone was pretty pleased with his performance,” she whispers.

Shaking my head, I scold, “You shouldn’t be talking about details. Number one rule. Sure, it’s just me you’re talking to, but you never know who’s listening.”

She glances over both shoulders and widens her eyes. She points across the room. “You mean that couple on the far end of the restaurant? The only other people in here?” Snark. Flapping jaws about secret details is a freshman mistake made by a new girlfriend who doesn’t know better. I intend to correct her behavior A.S.A.P. The last enemy the guys need is an unwitting idiot back at home.

“You don’t have to tell me he’s a badass. I already know. Don’t ever talk about details, okay? Cody wouldn’t like it.” She fluffs her hair and averts her eyes. “I’m serious,” I admonish.

“Fine. Fine. I was only telling you because he misses you and you should call him. They come home…soon.” She was going to tell me a date and thought better of it. Damn it. That is info I would really like to have, but I won’t contradict myself. I’ll call Windsor later. She’ll tell me in code.

“I miss him. This is for the best, though.” Our food arrives as my friend studies me skeptically. I stuff a forkful of salad in my mouth. Finally. I can occupy myself in a different way.

Lainey rattles the ice in her glass while chattering on about insignificant details in her life. “Are you going to the Fundraiser Ball next month?” A topic I’m comfortable with.

“Yes. I’m a key supporter. I won’t speak at this one, but I’ll definitely attend. Are you going with Cody?”

She nods. “I am. Maybe we can shop for dresses together. It will require a trip up to D.C. or an intense online shopping session. Which are you down for?” She’s just as busy as I am, so I know the online shopping will be best for both of us. I agree to meet at her house next week with my laptop so we can scour our favorite fashion websites for the perfect choice. A welcome distraction. Then my stomach sinks. A date. I’ll need a date. I can’t count