The Moth and the Flame (When Rivals Play #2) - B.B. Reid Page 0,75

did, it took her even longer to put them back on. Perhaps she was content to sleep on a bare mattress because she’d slept in worse places. I wondered if it weren’t for my nagging or Mrs. Henderson taking pity on her now and then if she’d forgo them altogether. If anyone ever asked, she’d probably claim a minimalist lifestyle.

“Well, I won’t hold you up,” she said after an awkward silence. “Thank you for the film.” She turned to leave, but I found I wasn’t ready to let her go just yet.

“Not so fast,” I said while pocketing my phone. “Why did you get detention?” It wasn’t the question I wanted to ask, but I didn’t have time to explore Lou’s ever-changing emotions.

She frowned. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“It can wait,” I growled. That sleeping bear she was poking at was now fully awake, and if she didn’t tread carefully, we’d both be in trouble.

“It’s like this,” she said with a sigh, and I knew right then she’d make me sorry for asking. “Some girls were gossiping, and it was interfering with my daydreaming, so I told them to can it, but then my debate teacher accused me of being disruptive and decided to call me out.”

“How did he call you out?”

“He asked me to weigh in on the topic.”

I lifted a brow, knowing she made the teach sorry too. “Did you?”

“I didn’t want to, and when he insisted, I told him it wasn’t anyone’s busy if he had a tiny penis, but to be safe, he should wear looser pants. Turns out it wasn’t the topic he meant.”

She immediately braced for my scolding, but I was a statue. I had no idea what to think. Knowing Lou, she could be telling the truth, or she could be lying, so after a few seconds of indecision, I spun on my heel without a word and walked away. It was the smartest decision I’d made since the moment I decided to look after her two years ago.

I felt her watching me as I headed for my car as quick as my feet would carry me. I shouldn’t have looked back, but she was a magnet, and I was powerless to her call. She looked remorseful, but I knew better than to think it was sincere. I smiled, a promise, and it hit its mark, unnerving her.

Hopping in my car, I sped away before I could turn back. Lou was playing with fire, and it was only a matter of time before it engulfed us both.

I WAS HUMMING FIREWORK BY Katy Perry and studying my paint-chipped toenails against the fluffy blue bathroom rug when my phone chirped. I knew by the chime who was texting, so I fished it out of the jeans pooled around my ankles and eagerly read the message.

Wren: This isn’t over.

I smirked even though he couldn’t see. It had been a couple of hours since he’d left, but I was clearly still on his mind.

Then why’d you run away?

Wren: Priorities, mouse.

I poked my lip out. I thought he’d forgotten all about his little pet name.

I’m not your priority?

I held my breath as I watched the three dots move for some time only to be disappointed. He’d changed the subject.

Wren: Where are you?

Home.

Where you left me.

Wren: More specific than that.

My heart took a few leaps of joy even as I frowned. The question had no relevance, which could only mean one thing. I’d unnerved him.

Smiling, I texted back.

Bathroom.

I watched the dots move some more before I got a reply.

Wren: Since when do you shower at night?

My smile grew, feeling girlishly flattered that he knew my routine. It was true I preferred morning showers to showers at night, but some days required both.

Not showering. :-)

Wren: So you’re texting me while peeing?

Not peeing. :D

There was more dot watching.

Wren: TMI, Lou.

I shrugged as if he could see me.

Besties tell each other everything.

Just then, I heard Mrs. Henderson calling me for dinner.

I now had a dilemma.

If I ended the conversation first, Wren would think I was up to no good and barrage me with endless questions. Sometimes, I wondered if it was a ploy to keep me talking because he was too macho or afraid to admit when he needed me. When my phone chimed and I read his reply, I saw the perfect opportunity.

Wren: We’re not those kinds of friends.

Does that mean we’re the other kind?

Wren: ?

I gritted my teeth, knowing he was being coy. It didn’t matter when I was