Page 2 of One Day

“Beks, I think you have a secret admirer.” I tilt my head in his direction.

She follows as she sinks back into her seat. The second her eyes land on him, her once bright grin dims and folds into a scowl. “Fitz?” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me. “He wishes.”

I snicker at her annoyance—because I guarantee he does—and let my eyes return to him. He has a reputation worse than Dylan for getting around campus, and I’ll give it to Fitz. He doesn’t shy away when he sees I’ve caught his eyes fixed on my best friend. If anything, it permits him to stare a little longer.

Shaking my head, I turn my attention back to my friends. “Are you going to tell us how you knew he’d go for the redhead?” I clarify my earlier question.

Reid's shoulders brush the ends of his shaggy brown hair that’s just a touch too long when he shrugs. “It’s Wednesday,” he says as if that’s answer enough.

Everett barks a laugh from across the table. “What the fuck does the day of the week have to do with it?” he asks, watching with distaste while Bekah gathers the pool of cash from the middle of the table.

“Can’t tell you that,” Reid says, looking up with a smile. “That’d ruin my fun.”

“That’s how you’re going to play it?” I ask with a raised brow, a small smile growing on my lips. “Have you forgotten I’ve spent years cultivating a large collection of embarrassing moments from your life, and I’m not afraid to use them against you?”

“You can try, but remember, I have just as much on you,” he shoots back with a devious smile. His blue eyes are bright with mischief, and just like that, the two of us are in a staring competition, waiting for the other to break.

Growing up next door to each other, we had been there to witness every embarrassing moment the other has experienced. From Reid being forced to participate in ballet lessons with me—tights and all—to my very public, very humiliating first kiss on the soccer field in seventh grade. There are just some people you do life with, and mine is Reid.

“Hey, cuties,” Dylan says when he slides in next to me, causing my heart to leap into my throat as he pinches my arm and breaks my concentration.

“Damnit, Dylan!” I say, swatting his chest. “I almost had him.”

He laughs at my expense. “No, you didn’t. Reid’s a rock.”

Rolling my eyes, I shuffle over to give Dylan some more room. “That was rather quick,” I note. Reid’s intuition suddenly a conversation of the past as our eyes all track the redhead Dylan was with no less than ten minutes ago. “Can’t keep it up, can you, DeLuca?”

“No, she’s just good with her mouth.”

My lips part in surprise at the lewd comment despite knowing better. Dylan has never been one to hold back, and one of these days, it’s going to get him in trouble. “Too much information, Dylan,” I say, nudging him with my elbow.

“At least tell me you’re repaying the favor,” Bekah says, perking up across from me. Her dark waves sway with her movement. “The girl at least deserves an orgasm if you plan to never talk to her again.”

“You know I’m better than that, Beks,” he says, a hand over his heart. “I’m a giver.”

“It’s less charming when you comment on it yourself,” Reid says, his attention already back on his book. It’s like the rest of us aren’t even here, and somehow, I think that’s exactly how he likes it. He’s always up to going out with us, it just comes with the condition of a book being his plus one.

“She didn’t think so,” Dylan says with a wide grin.

“I’d be mad about how incredibly unattractive your cockiness is, but you just made me forty dollars richer, so I’m going to zip my lips,” Bekah says, dragging her pinched fingers across her mouth and tossing the imaginary key.

“Still betting on my sex life, are we?” he asks with a teasing look.

The first time we did it, it had been as a joke to poke fun at his fuckboy tendencies, but then it kept happening. Somehow, I think he is the most amused by it.

“Yeah, you want to throw me a bone and let me earn my money back?” Everett asks with a raised brow, flexing his arms when he crosses them over his chest. Black ink marks his pale skin like paint seeping from the black fabric of his button-down onto his arms.

Dylan smirks. “Or you could just be better.”

“It would be nice not to keep losing money to Bekah,” I add, resting a foot on the edge of the booth to hug my knee to my chest. “I am getting poorer by the second.”

“It says a lot about the three of you that you could be doing something more productive, like having your own hook-ups instead of paying attention to me and mine.”

Everett presses further into his side of the vinyl booth. “I have better things to do.”

“Then getting your dick sucked?” Dylan’s grin widens. “I think you’d be a little less grumpy if you were getting head regularly.”

My lips part to argue with him, wanting to defend Everett, but I’m cut short by Reid’s snort of laughter. “Reid,” I hiss, digging my elbow into his ribs.

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