Page 29 of For Crosby

“Hey,” I called once she’d taken a few steps.

She whirled back around with daggers in her eyes. “What?”

I grabbed Finlay’s blanket from the chair by my door and tossed it to her. “Give this back to Finlay.”

She shot me the look of death before storming away with the blanket clenched in her hands.

This time I let her go.

Sabrina

I rounded the corner, stopping to inhale a much-needed breath. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Why had I allowed myself to feel sorry for him on Thanksgiving? Why had I allowed myself to feel sorry for him at the game? Why had I let him get to me?

Ughhhhh.

I banged the back of my head against the wall, hoping to knock some sense into myself. Why had Jeremy sent me to Crosby’s room? Was it a pissing contest between the two of them? Had I been a pawn?

Crosby’s words from the rink played through my mind. ‘Why hasn’t he asked you out before now?’ Was I just another way to get to Crosby? But why? We barely even knew each other?

My phone pinged in my messenger bag. I dug inside and pulled it out. Speak of the devil.

Everything OK? Jeremy’s text read.

Seriously? You sent me to the wrong room.

Shit. I did? I’m in 129.

If this was a game, two could play it. No worries. You sent me to Crosby’s room. Turns out he’s not so bad.

The three dots appeared and I suddenly couldn’t wait to see how he’d respond. So, when will you be here?

Gahhh. Asshole.

Sorry. We decided to hang out. I shoved my phone into my messenger bag and took off for home.

“Guys suck,” I said to Finlay as I plopped down onto my bed a few minutes later.

She glanced up from her bed where her nose was buried in her notebook. “I take it studying didn’t go so well?”

“It didn’t go anywhere. He sent me to Crosby’s room.”

Her eyes narrowed as I tossed her blanket to her. “Why?”

I fell back onto my bed and draped my arm across my eyes. “It’s like he’s playing some game with Crosby and I somehow got caught in the middle.”

“What a jerk.” There was a long pause before Finlay spoke again. “So, Crosby?”

“Stop.” I was in no mood for her pro-Crosby campaign.

“Just saying. You went to his room.”

“Not by choice.”

“But don’t you think it’s the least bit interesting that you two keep running into each other?”

I removed my arm from my eyes and cut a glance her way. “Nothing about us running into each other is interesting. Exhausting, maybe. But definitely not interesting.”

“He needs friends, Sabrina.”

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