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“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” She hugged him. “Oh, and Nix, little word of warning. I saw Cherri earlier and she’s on the warpath.”
Fuck my life.
I inhaled a thin breath. “Thanks for the heads up.”
“Okay, I’m going. Bye.” Chloe hurried after her friend, and Kye let out an exasperated breath.
“She’s a fucking nightmare. A date. She’s on a motherfucking date.”
“Little bit is all grown up.” I smirked. “Regretting telling Maddox to stay the fuck away?”
Maddox West was a guy in Chloe’s class. He and Chloe had always been tight, but their friendship had never crossed the line. Probably because Kye told Maddox exactly what he would do to him if he ever laid a hand on her.
“West isn’t right for her,” Kye grumbled.
“And Ken Doll from Dartmouth is?” Zane arched a brow.
“He does kinda resemble a Ken Doll, doesn’t he? Fuck. Maybe we should follow them.”
“No way, no fucking way. I came for back up, but I draw the line at stalking your sister around the fair.”
“Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want to do that either. But I swear to God, if he tries anything—”
“Relax, big bro.” I slung my arm around his neck. “The night is young and there’s too much pussy in the fairground to worry about little bit and her date. Come on. Let’s go find you a distraction.”
And who knew, maybe I’d find one too.
I heard her before I saw her.
We were hanging out near the concession stand, eating hot dogs and chatting to some guys from the team when a tingle of awareness ran down my spine.
“No, no way.” Her voice was like a punch to the stomach. “I can’t ride that, I’ll puke.”
“But you have to ride with us.”
It was the guy from theother day, at the park and bowling alley. I discreetly watched them, positioning myself so that the rest of my friends shielded me from sight.
Zane noticed, his expression turning grim, but I shook my head.
I’ve got this,I silently conveyed.
Like hell you do, he shot back.
So maybe he was right, maybe I didn’t have this. But I wasn’t about to do anything stupid like go over there and make myself known. Instead, I watched. Eavesdropped on their conversation as they stood on the other side of the concession stand, watching the Tilt-A-Whirl in action.
“I’ll wait here,” Harleigh said. “You two go.”
“There’s a line. It could take a while.”
“I’m sure I’ll manage.” There was a tightness to her words as if she knew she wouldn’t manage but didn’t want to ruin their fun.
I was hardly surprised. She always had been self-sacrificing, putting the needs of others before her own.
Me included.
Guilt snaked through me, coiling around my chest, squeezing the air from lungs, my dead fucking heart.
Her friends joined the line and Harleigh moved over to one of the keg tables, looking all kinds of awkward.
