Kiss and Break Up - Ella Fields Page 0,77
ask things.
“Few months, maybe. But it’s been going on longer than that.” I heard a door closing before she continued. “We just didn’t know what to do.”
“You’re not blood related. What’s the big deal besides your parents?”
“Um, our parents.” She sighed. “Not to mention, we have the same surname. It’s not exactly normal.”
“It isn’t,” I said before I could stop myself. “I mean, I get it, but like Daphne said, you’re not actually related so it’s not that bad.”
“We have pictures together of us crawling. We gave up our pacifiers at the same time. Our parents used to try to pass us off as twins.” She groaned. “They’d never, ever be okay with it.”
“Well, duh,” Daphne said. “But you’ve only got like eight months until school is out, and then you guys will be getting ready to leave for college.”
My eyes widened. “Oh, please tell me you’re applying for the same colleges.”
“Look who’s excited now,” Daphne said.
“Shut up,” I snarked. “I need the excitement. Don’t judge.”
Willa laughed. “It’s okay. And yeah, we’ve applied for some together.”
We wrapped up talking about Jackson when Willa heard a noise outside her room and started whispering. My eyes were beginning to grow heavy, so I hung up, mumbling something about seeing them on Monday before I fell asleep with my phone hanging from my fingertips.
Dash
The Silver Bridge hotel wasn’t the finest establishment in the area, but it did let me pay cash, so I booked a room, ordered a shit ton of food, and began my new life as a binge-eating, heartbroken, daytime TV watching champion.
Well, I don’t want your damn love. Not now. Not tomorrow. Not in ten years.
Those words had shattered me where I’d stood, and I’d left most of me behind when she’d shoved me out the door. It was easier that way. To breathe, to eat, to sleep without the constant turbulence those broken pieces would shake alive.
Making my own new place in the world, where there were no memories of Peggy and no constant reminders of what I’d ruined, was the best idea I could’ve had, quite frankly.
And so that was why I was pissed when my scumbag friends somehow tracked me down.
The phone barked, and I picked it up, confused that it was ringing. I put it down to possibly owing the front desk some money, seeing as I’d only paid for a week. It was now Monday, and I needed to haul my ass to an atm.
“There’s someone here asking for you—hey!”
“Dash, what room number?” came Jackson’s voice.
After I’d gotten over my shock, I smirked. “Take a wild guess.” Then I hung up, leaving the phone off the cradle.
It took him five minutes, which was kind of sad, really, but he eventually found me. Three thuds smacked on the door. I took my time getting up. “I don’t want none of your beef sausage, Larry James. I’ve already told you, I’m straight.”
“What the fuck?” Great, Lars was here too.
“No, I’m not down to fuck. Females. I like females.” I drew the words out, straight-faced. “But I have this friend back home who might like your number. He goes by the name interfering ass—”
“Dash, shut the fuck up and open the door.”
I sighed, unlatching the chain, then returned to my sanctuary on the bed.
“Wow, nice digs,” Raven said, and I scowled, not realizing he’d joined the Dash-has-gone-missing express. “I’m digging the fungus over there.”
“So’s your mom.”
Lars chuckled. “Can’t be too messed up if he’s making cracks about your mom.”
“Room 66?” Jackson drawled. “You’re missing a six.”
I kicked my feet up, uncaring I was only wearing a T-shirt and briefs. Their fault for intruding. “We have imaginations for a reason, stickler.”
“Nice thighs. You work them quads, baby?” Raven waggled his brows.
I fought the temptation to tug at my briefs. “I already told you, Larry. I’m fucking straight.”
Raven played for both teams and gave zero fucks what anyone thought about it.
It didn’t bother me, so long as he didn’t go making out with any dudes all up in my space.
Raven sighed, perching on the edge of the forty-year-old laminate desk. “I knew a Larry once.”
“Who cares? Can we just grab him and leave?” Jackson peered around. “This place is fucking depressing.” He sniffed, then raised his shirt to his nose, mumbling behind the cotton. “And it smells like moldy feet.”
“Lay off my sanctuary. It’s been my trusty companion this past week.” I opened a bag of Doritos, popping one into my mouth and crunching. “Unlike you shit-stains.”
Jackson guffawed. “How the