Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,29

but I relax as soon as I recognize the voice.

“Something you wanna tell me, Cals?” I look down at her.

“There are a lot of things I want to tell you, but first you’re buying me coffee.”

I lift my brows but let her drag me after her. “No Hayden to bully into doing your bidding? Or did you finally come to your senses and decide to leave his grumpy ass?” She swats me over the head. By now I should see it coming, but she manages to surprise me every time. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“Being an ass, per usual.”

I rub at the back of my neck. “If you keep at it, you’ll give me a concussion.”

“Maybe you should try to be less of a smarty pants, and I wouldn’t have to.”

“Of course it’s my fault.”

“Of course it is,” she agrees readily. “Where were you this weekend?”

Her tone may be casual, accompanied by an innocent bat of her eyelashes, but I don’t let it fool me.

“Around.”

“Not at the house.”

“There is more to around than being at the house.”

“True.” Her fingers dig more into my forearm. “So where were you?”

I plaster my most charming smile onto my face. “What? Keeping tabs on me now, Mom?”

Callie gives me a look that conveys her thoughts without her having to voice them—I see what you’re doing, and you can’t fool me. “I’m just curious. Usually you’re at the house, if you’re not hooking up with somebody. But even then, it’s just that, a hookup, ending with you doing a walk of shame in the middle of the night to sleep in your own bed. So, color me curious.”

I force a laugh out, although she hit a little too close to home. Ignoring her non-question question, I ask instead, “Married life is so boring you have to live vicariously through me?”

“I’ll give you married life.” Callie shoves me away and stumbles in the process, almost ending on her ass. We both laugh as I catch her.

“You were saying?”

“I love my life, thank you very much. And Hayden keeps me up long into the night, so I know you didn’t come back home.”

“He ain’t doing something right if you can stay up and wait for me,” I mutter, but of course it doesn’t pass unnoticed by Callie. She starts toward me, but I lift my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.”

She gives me a warning glare. “You better.”

“So if your life’s so good,” I start carefully, “what’s with this sudden obsession to meddle in mine?”

“Can’t a friend be interested in you?”

“Sure can.”

“Then why are you avoiding my questions?”

“I—” I stop in my tracks when I see the familiar window and the sign hanging on the side of the door. A group of students is just coming out of Cup It Up, all of them carrying the familiar cup with their logo on it as they chat away.

“C’mon, I need my fix.” Callie tugs at my hand, startling me, but I snap out of it and follow after her.

“God, is there a thing like coffeeholic? Because if there isn’t I’ll demand they add it to the dictionary, along with your photo just below the definition.”

“The word you’re looking for is cofftastic. You know, once I get my fix, that is.”

The bell over the door rings as Callie pushes open the door and enters, me in tow. Yasmin lifts her head and looks toward the door. I suck in a breath as our eyes meet, gazes hold. It feels like I haven’t seen her in weeks, although it’s just been a few days.

Then she blinks, and the moment is gone.

“What are you two doing here?” Yasmin asks, her attention on Callie. The tip of her tongue slides out and over her lower lip. Transfixed, I follow the movement. Her full lips are bare; no lip gloss or anything for Yasmin. There is a natural pout to them, and they just beg to be kissed.

“I found him at the administration building and forced him to buy me coffee. You know, before he sneaks off and disappears on us once again.” Callie gives a pointed look to Yasmin. “It seems like it’s a trend around here or something.”

Yasmin’s eyes meet mine, a guilty look crossing her face before she turns away, avoiding both me and Callie.

“Or something,” Yasmin mutters.

I have a feeling I know what sneaking around Callie is referring to when it comes to Yasmin. Doesn’t she know? Is the fact that Coach is Yasmin’s father such a