Page 37 of The Thought of You

“That’s what you consider romantic? It’s a mystery why you’re still single.” His sarcasm irritates the shit out of me.

“It’s more romantic than wanting to ask a woman out but dragging your feet for two days,” I toss back. “Aren’t you leaving tomorrow?”

“I’m not leaving for the moon. She and I can have a lunch date before I return to Atlanta, and then I can be back next weekend.”

Two dates? He hasn’t grown the balls to ask her out on the first date, and he’s already planning the second. What a fucking tool. Was he like this in high school? If so, it’s hard to believe we were friends.

I clasp his shoulder with my free hand, the flask warm in my other. I open my mouth to say something sarcastic, but at the last second, guilt nips at my tongue.

It’s not his fault I’m currently stuck in limbo with Addie. Why did she and those sinful jeans have to fucking haunt me all night?

“Good luck, buddy” is all I offer before escaping into the lobby, where I find Austin staring at the door.

“Are you waiting for Mr. Buchanan’s ghost to float in?” I smirk.

“It’d make this stupid party more interesting, that’s for sure,” he grumbles.

“We need some music. Good thinking.” I smack him on the shoulder.

“I didn’t say anything,” he says, but I’m already marching toward…

Where do they even keep the music?

My pulse spikes as I launch a full investigation for the damn music just to get my mind off Addie. Bond and Addie. Bond and Addie and what nature calls for.

I ask the bartender and a server, who both point to the corner where a speaker stands. “I knew that,” I sarcastically toss over my shoulder at the duo in matching black-and-white uniforms.

With two strides, I reach the speaker and hook my phone up, tap on the song at the top of my list, and bob my head to the quick beat.

“Now it’s a party!” I punctuate my outburst with a clap, and more classmates filter into the courtyard, cheering and pumping their fists into the air.

“You always knew how to pick ’em, Conrad,” Davis says, pulling me in for a bro hug and a pat on the shoulder.

With the crowd clearly happy, I head back inside, and Austin’s still right where I left him.

“Where is Addie? Shouldn’t she be here by now?” He drags his heel across a tile in the floor.

I lower the flask and stare at him, then the door. “Do you think something happened to her?”

“Like what?” He furrows his brow.

“A car accident? Or what if she drowned in a pile of calendars and Post-It notes?” My eyes widen. Is that possible? Damn it.

My nerves fire like a swarm of bees released from their honeycomb traps. I scratch at the back of my neck as if I can feel bees on my skin, my neck hot.

How much whiskey have I had? I just had to bring the good shit too, didn’t I?

I shove the flask back into my coat pocket and grimace as I catch my friend Nate in my periphery. The word around town was that he wouldn’t make it this weekend, but then he surprised us all.

“What are we staring at?” he asks, turning to face the door as a few familiar faces enter, but they’re not the ones we’re waiting for.

“The girls” is all I offer.

“Right,” Nate draws out. “Any particular girls, or…”

“Addie,” Austin says. “We’re waiting for her. She’s supposed to arrive with Caroline and Maren.”

“Have you seen Maren yet?” I ask Nathan with a wiggle of my brows. “She looks good, man. The single life is treating her rather well.”

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