Never His Girl (Kings of Cypress Prep #2) - Rachel Jonas Page 0,77
I looked the place up online and, based on reviews, they’ve got really good music,” she adds, sipping from her cup.
“Been so long since I’ve gone to a club, I can’t even remember the last time,” I admit.
“Not your scene?” she asks.
I shrug and pick a small piece from my muffin to pop into my mouth. “More like I don’t have time,” I joke. “Between school, practice, work, and looking after my sister, the only other thing I ever want to do is sleep.”
I realize I’m the only one still smiling, which means I’m probably killing the mood with my real-world problems.
Whoops.
My gaze shifts out the window as the bus takes off. It’s dark now and we’ll be locked in here together for a few hours. Note to self: don’t make it awkward.
“How old’s your sister?” Joss asks, surprising me when she flips right back to the subject I thought they all wanted to avoid.
“She’s fourteen. Her birthday’s in January, though.”
“You guys close?”
I nod and the question reminds me how much I’ll miss that brat over the weekend. “We are,” I admit. “Although, she gets sick of me bossing her around.”
Joss laughs and I gulp down the last of my hot chocolate, setting the cup beside me on the floor.
“What about you? Got any siblings?” I ask.
Her long braids shift when she shakes her head. “Nope, it’s just me. I wish my parents did have another kid around, though. Maybe then they’d hover less.”
“Yeah-fucking-right,” Dane teases. “They’d still find a reason to smother you.”
The comment has Joss laughing, but prompts her to leap up and smack Dane’s arm.
She settles back into her seat as the bus veers onto the highway, rocking us with its motion. We all finish whatever snacks we had when the trip first started and then Sterling addresses the elephant in the room.
Quietly, of course, leaning across the aisle so no one outside our little group hears him.
“So, you two working things out okay?” he asks, but a deep growl from West pulls from the serious vibe Sterling was giving off just a second ago.
“Dude, you are Dr. Phil-ing the shit out of this moment. How much would it cost to get you to back the hell up?” West asks.
“Too intense?” Sterling manages to get out with a straight face, but then a smile breaks free and I realize he was only kidding in the first place.
“Way too intense,” Joss answers.
West has clearly kept his crew up to speed on everything, which I find kind of sweet. It means he talks about me when I’m not around. Maybe even getting advice from these three on occasion.
“Fuck. Sorry about that,” he leans in to say.
“I don’t know,” I say back. “Maybe he’s on to something. A little counseling might do us some good.”
An easy smile settles on his lips when he realizes I’m not being uptight about this.
“Cute, Southside,” he grumbles in that sexy, broody way of his.
For a moment, it’s hard to break the lingering gaze between us, but when Dane speaks up, we both turn that way.
“This feels like a Truth or Dare moment if I ever saw one,” he says.
“Not doing it.’
“Nope.”
“No way.”
Those are the collective responses of the other three, who clearly know something I don’t when it comes to Dane and this game.
“You take things way too far,” Joss reveals. “Let’s let Blue get used to us in regular form before we scare the poor girl off. K?”
“But we don’t have a fucking ‘regular form’,” Dane shoots back, which has Joss shrugging, reconsidering her words.
“You might be right about that,” she concedes.
They fall into a conversation of their own—Joss and the other Golden boys—leaving me and West out of it. It’s pitch black and there’s still a bit of a chill to the air, even inside the bus. And as if he hasn’t already been my knight in shining armor tonight, West reaches down inside his bag and pulls out a small, black blanket with the school crest in the center. He doesn’t ask if I’m cold, just spreads it across my legs and his.
Next, he offers me one of his earbuds and I accept it, listening as the lyrics and mellow beat of one of my favorite songs floods my thoughts—Mac Miller’s ‘Right’. One melody flows into the next, and after a while, we’ve gotten comfortable in this small space. My head settles on his shoulder, and beneath the blanket, his hand rests on my thigh.