Kiss To Forget (Blairwood University #2) - Anna B. Doe Page 0,58
the couch and watching some stupid reality show.
“Did hell freeze over?”
“What are you talking about?”
Going inside, I lean against the doorjamb. “You. Sitting here alone. Moping.”
“I’m not moping, asshole.” He throws one of the sofa cushions—courtesy of Callie—at me, but I duck it safely.
“Not at all. Where’s your prettier half?”
I don’t remember when the last time was that I’d seen him without Callie. They’ve been inseparable since they came back from winter break, with Callie spending most of her time at the house.
“Girls’ night.”
“Oh, this is good.” I laugh, and the scowl on his face deepens. “You got ditched, and now you’re pouting in the dark.”
“Not pouting.”
“Yeah, try saying that again. Maybe this time your lip won’t wobble like you’re about to cry.”
“You’re just a jealous dickhead, Cole. Why don’t you go and find yourself a girlfriend?”
“I’m sure she wouldn’t ditch me for a girls’ night,” I throw over my shoulder as I go to the kitchen. I find a six-pack in the fridge, take two and return to the living room, where Hayden is channel surfing or stabbing the remote, depending on how you look at it.
“Here.” I throw the can at him, and he catches it almost effortlessly. “Maybe that will help you keep your panties straight.”
“I hate you.”
“You wish you could, but I’m too charming to hate. So where is the missus tonight? Not like it’s hard to find a better offer than to hang out with you.”
“Fuck you.” He pops the lid open and takes a swig. “Chloe found out about some new club opening so they’re going.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “You let her go to a club? Alone?”
“Yes, I did. I’m not her handler.”
“There are assholes there that will want to dick her. You sure you’re up for it?”
“Callie isn’t like that, and you know it.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about Callie.”
His phone beeps, and he lunges at it like it’s on fire. I just lean against the couch, my hands spread over the back of it as I watch him, sipping on my own beer.
Hayden grins at whatever message appeared on his screen. The dumbass only gets that smile when he’s talking to two people, Callie and his Grams, and since the latter is probably sleeping since it’s already past midnight, I think it’s safe to assume it’s Callie.
But the smile slips from his lips almost as quickly as it appeared. “What the fuck?”
“What?”
I let my legs fall off the coffee table and look at his phone. True enough, Callie texted him. Her message is a mess that I’m not sure I even want to decipher. But what probably got his attention is the photo attached below.
The photo is of the girls, all right. Chloe, Callie, Yasmin, and Alyssa of all people, in addition to some other girls I don’t know—although based on how they look, they’re Alyssa’s friends—all smiling happily for the camera. But that’s not what has his attention, or mine—it’s the group of guys that’s sitting next to them cozily snuggled up.
What the hell?
One particular fucker draws my attention. Mr. All-American who’s holding Yasmin so close she’s practically sitting in his lap.
What. The. Actual. Fuck?
The beer I’ve been drinking suddenly tastes sour in my mouth. My fingers dig deeper into the couch, knuckles turning white.
“Fuck this.” Hayden jumps to his feet.
“Fuck what?” Zane stops in the hallway, and looks at us, a permanent scowl on his face.
“I’m going to get her,” Hayden says, already slipping on his shoes and jacket.
“Get who?”
“Callie,” I explain, getting to my feet and following after Hayden. “You coming or what?”
The drive seems to take forever. Hayden wanted to take the car, but Zane was the one who insisted we grab an Uber instead. Thankfully one was just a few minutes out because I’m not sure Hayden would have waited if it were longer. Nor was I sure I could do it.
What the hell was she doing with that guy?
I couldn’t get that stupid photo out of my head. I’m not sure I ever saw Yasmin with a guy before, but he doesn’t seem like her type. Not that I know what her type is, but she wouldn’t go for a guy that’s basically a real-life Ken doll, right? He’s just too smug, too full of himself, too… polished, I guess? The fuck if I know. What I do know is that seeing them together screamed all wrong.
The roads are deserted since it’s the middle of the night, so the ride doesn’t take too long, and it turns