Page 60 of A Little Jaded
You sure this is gonna work?
Reeves:
Someone’s panties are in a twist.
My nostrils flare as I read his message. Another one pops up right after.
Reeves:
Yes, this will work. I told all the puck bunnies to invite friends. Drake will know about the game night. Now, where are you?
I glance up at the house we’re parked in front of as my thumbs move across my cell.
Me
Just pulled up.
Reeves
Good. Did Cameron tell you whichgame he picked?
Resisting the urge to scrub my hand over my face, I type my response instead.
Me
Not yet. We never should’ve let him win last time.
Reeves
Wait until you hear what he picked. You need to cut us some slack. We were a little distracted by your girl’s boyfriend’s appearance during the last game night, remember? Get your ass inside.
Me
Be right there.
I hit send, then tuck my phone into my back pocket as the car idles in front of the house. Turning the ignition off, I wipe my palms against my jeans and glance at Raine beside me.
It’s been interesting these last few weeks. I don’t think either of us can deny the distance we’ve kept from each other, but even then, I can’t help but have picked up a few things. Like the way she plays with her black nails when she’s anxious or distracted.
She’s doing it again while staring up at the house. Lost in her own thoughts. In the what-ifs of tonight. The quiet click-click of her nails tapping against each other echoes through the otherwise silent cab, and she wets her lips.
She’s nervous.
Beautiful, of course, but nervous.
Her hair’s curled and pulled into a high pony. The thick waves hang down her back, and her makeup is kept to a minimum. Yet there’s a glow to her skin making her look like a fucking goddess.
Anervousgoddess.
A nervous goddess who couldn’t decide if she wanted to blend in or stand out tonight, if I had to guess by her tight black top and ripped jeans.
Fuck, she looks incredible.
I tear my attention from the slip of skin peeking through the rip in her jeans on her upper thigh and ask, “You good?”
She gulps and looks at me. “You really think he’ll show?”
He.