Page 113 of Stolen Summer
“I don’t know. Maybe,” I mused as a light mist expelled from the clouds.
Frankie swiped her key over the unlock pad, and the door clicked open a moment later. “Just be careful,” she warned.
I flung open the door and held it for her to walk through. “Trust me, I refuse to be hurt by either of them again.”
We climbed the stairs just as the rain began to pour, pelting the side of the building. “You know I’d support you regardless of who you date.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Now that we cleared that up, you want to binge Twilight and order shitty takeout?” she tossed over her shoulder, auburn hair flying with her movements.
“Is that even a question? What else do we do when it’s crappy outside?” I did have homework I could tackle and should, but a night in with my best friend was too tempting for me to pass up.
Since we lived together, you’d think we’d have plenty of them, but sometimes it felt as if I saw less of her now than I did when we weren’t in the same house. Our class schedules pretty much conflicted which gave us only the weekends, except Frankie’s social life hadn’t slowed down. She loved the frat boys, and they loved her.
We were deep into the second movie, my least favorite, when someone banged on the door. Frankie looked at me, and I stared back, neither of us moving. “Did you order more food?”
“Not that I remember,” she said, rolling off the couch to check.
I took advantage of the interruption for a bathroom break and padded into the bedroom. Just as I closed the door to the washroom behind me, Frankie’s voice carried through the apartment.
“Crew?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
No fucking way.
I braced a hand on the sink, going still while my heart raced. Oh my god. What’s he doing here? As quietly as I could, I cracked the door to eavesdrop better. Different shades of panic spiraled through me.
My brain wanted to believe I’d misheard Frankie, but before the internal argument could go further, Crew’s unmistakable voice demanded, “I need to see her.”
It had been over two months, closer to three since I’d last laid eyes on Crew Riley. My gaze lifted to the mirror, seeing my wide-eyed, slightly wild, dismayed expression staring back at me. I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Not while I looked like this. When I saw Crew, I wanted it to be on my time, my turf, when I fucking looked smoking hot. I wanted him to feel the suffering of what he lost and could have had.
I held my breath waiting for Frankie to respond. “She’s not here,” my best friend retorted with added firmness.
My exhale came out in a whoosh of relief. Of course, she had my back. Frankie was protective, and she knew how worried I’d been about seeing Crew on campus.
“I just need five minutes,” Crew insisted.
“Are you drunk?” Frankie asked, her tone sharpening.
“It’s a Friday. Who isn’t drunk on campus?”
Frankie and I had a couple of drinks during our movie, but we weren’t drunk…yet.
“Like I said, she’s not home, and even if she was, I wouldn’t let you talk to her,” she said boldly.
“She can’t avoid me forever,” Crew rumbled. Why did the sound of his voice make my body flush? Make me wish things were different?
“You’ve don’t enough damage, don’t you think?” Frankie used the words like a weapon, whipping them out at Crew. “I won’t let you hurt her again.”
He didn’t immediately have a response, and I wondered if he left. I leaned closer to the door.
“Tell her I’ll be waiting. And give her this.”
“You’ll be a decrepit old man by the time Arie gives you the time of day again,” Frankie said, but there was also something sad or regretful in her delivery, almost like she was rooting for him.
It had to be my imagination. Why would Frankie want me to give him a second chance when she’d been the one to warn me away from him?