Page 8 of Dire Straights

“You just don’t know me that well yet. Believe me, I can be a dick.”

“Well, I don’t mind. I’m used to it.”

“Don’t,” he said firmly. When I just stared at him, confused, he went on. “Don’t be used to it. If someone is a dick to you, call them out. That includes me, too.”

“Oh. Um, okay. I’ll let you know, I guess.” There was no freaking way I would ever have the balls to tell someone like Maddox Holmes he was being a dick.

We were quiet for a bit after that, surrounded by an atmosphere that I would normally be miserable in. But I felt more comfortable standing next to him, for some reason.

“I set an alarm for tomorrow, you know.” He said the words, then sipped from his water, staring off into a corner. When I followed his line of sight, I didn’t see anything he could be looking at.

“To… Wake up?”

“No,” he said, sounding exasperated. “For the library.”

“Oh!” I finally realized. “You mean… Because we’re meeting up?”

“Right.”

“Cool. I should do that, too,” I said, pulling my phone from my pocket. There was absolutely no chance that I could get distracted enough to lose track of time and forget about it. I knew I’d be basically watching the clock all day until it was time. But I made a show of setting up an alarm and then showing him. He glanced down at my screen, then gave me a single nod.

“Cool.”

“Cool,” I repeated. After that, we stared at each other for so long that we both started cracking up. I didn’t exactly know what was so funny, but it was. His laugh was really cute, and he looked relaxed for once.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why does this all feel so awkward?” He wondered, still chuckling a bit. When he shifted from where he’d been leaning back against the wall, the hem of his shirt slipped up a little bit. I had to try really, really hard not to stare at it.

“Um, it’s probably just me,” I admitted. “I kind of make everything awkward.” Especially right now, when I was noticing how toned and firm the little strip of his navel that his shirt had exposed was. Thank god he couldn’t read my mind or he’d probably reach over and punch me. Then again, Man Crush Mondays were a thing. But it was Tuesday.

He tilted his head a little bit, as if acknowledging my statement. “Maybe it’s me.”

I wanted to disagree with him, but before I could, Kelani emerged from the kitchen, pushing a can of soda into my hands.

“Sorry about that!” She apologized. “I was catching up with someone I didn’t know was going to school here. Hey, listen, a bunch of us are going into the den to play spin the bottle!” She grabbed my wrist, tugging at me. My stomach dropped, a clear indicator of my body reminding me that the idea of kissing strangers was awful and terrifying.

“Uh…” I planted my feet firmly on the ground, but struggled to think of an argument.

“Spin the bottle?” Maddox repeated, scoffing. “What are we, 12?”

Kelani gave him a wry look, like she already wasn’t that fond of him. I’d kind of noticed that earlier too, but they’d only just met, hadn’t they? Did it have something to do with Kelani’s brother who Maddox lived with?

“Well,youdon’t have to play,” she pointed out. “But Ren and I are.”

“Ah, well, I don’t-”

“You’re playing?” Maddox demanded, giving me an intense look again. I wanted to say no, but it felt like I couldn’t get a word in edgewise between them. His question made me feel like I was on trial for a crime.

“I don’t th-”

“Yes, he’s playing,” Kelani answered for me. “We came to this party to have fun, not just stand alone in a corner.” I wasn’t technically standingalonein a corner. I was standing with Maddox, which was infinitely more appealing than a kissing game.

“Fine,” he said. His tone of voice was casual, but his body language was definitely irritated. “I’ll play too, then. Whatever.”

They both left the room in a huff, headed towards the den like they were in a race. Groaning a little in my throat and rubbing my eyes, I realized I had no choice but to follow them.

MADDOX

I COULD THINKof several activities banned by the Geneva Convention that I would have preferred participating in more than spin the bottle. But the thought of Ren playing without me, for some reason, put an uncomfortable tension in my muscles. Kelani obviously didn’t have a problem with forcing him into lame shit like this, so who knew what would happen if I didn’t stick around?

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