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I think I really like you,
“You guys know I’m awake, right?”
“And now it’s time for bed. Say good night to your friend Beau, sweetie.” “Good night, Beau,” Dean says obediently.
“Allie.” Hannah sounds exceedingly worried. “Talk to me.” I inhale a wobbly breath. “Can you do something for me?” “Anything,” she says instantly. “Just tell me what you need.” “Can you…” I speak through the tight lump in my throat. “Can you call Dean and ask him to come over?” I don’t check her face to gauge her reaction. I don’t need to, because I hear the bewilderment loud and clear in her voice. “Dean?” She pauses. “Dean Di Laurentis?” “Yes.” I curl up again, tucking my head against the pillow. “You want me to call Dean.” “Yes.” “Dean Di Laurentis?” “Yes.” I lick my dry lips, which are
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“Where is she?”
“You tell me,” I snap impatiently. “You’re the one who called me at one a.m. and told me to come over because Allie needs me. What happened?”
“Baby,” I say softly. A startled gasp sounds from the door. Gritting my teeth, I spin on my heel and proceed to slam the door in Hannah’s and Garrett’s astonished faces. They don’t exist to me right now. Only Allie does, and I’m on the bed before she can blink, drawing her into my arms and cocooning her in them. She buries her face against my chest, and I can feel her trembling. “What happened?”
“We’re together,”
“Hey, I have an idea.” I lean against the counter and stare at them over the rim of my mug. “How ’bout you guys mind your own business?” Wellsy’s jaw drops. Garrett’s eyebrows soar.
Hannah glares at me. Garrett shakes his head.
“Your Hurricanes?” He grins. “Dude, admit it. You’re in love with those kidlets.” “Fuck off. I just have fun coaching—”
Of all of our friends, Garrett is the most concerned. Hannah wants me to be happy, and as long as I’m smiling, she’s smiling. Garrett, on the other hand, waffles between worry and wary acceptance. He’s convinced that Dean is going to break my heart, which will therefore create a rift between his girlfriend and one of his best friends.
Allie plays the vagina card, in which case the arrangement becomes do what your girlfriend wants. My girlfriend. Fuck me. It still boggles my mind. I ain’t complaining, though.
Pain swims in my head, and I hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.
Oh yes. Miss Hayes. The crazy maniac who happens to be my girlfriend. The kung-fu master who knocked me out with a Wayne Gretzky paperweight.
Oh my fucking God. I’m going to strangle them. The moment these cops leave, I’m going to fucking strangle them.
“Are you kidding me right now? You’ll watch a horror movie with my sister but not me? We have to watch the cancer movie?”
“Jesus. I can’t believe you got the drop on me like that. You’re lucky I love you, babe. If any other girl had done this to me—” “You love me?” I blurt out.
“I thought you said you didn’t want to salsa dance. And Dean Di Laurentis only does what he wants, remember?” He shrugs. “I am doing what I want.” My eyebrows knit together as I wait for him to clarify. “I’m making you happy.”
“You need to find a way to deal with your grief. But I can’t be there anymore to help you. I’m not going to stand by and watch you stick your head in a bottle because you’re too afraid to face the pain. I’m done.”
Shit, and it suddenly occurs to me that if this is how Allie’s dad looks now, she’s got expectations. I’m going to have to look forward to working out for the rest of my life.
“Thank fuck.”
“The excitement is over, huh?” Well, fuck me.
