Page 135 of The Risk

“Hey,” I grunt.

“Hey.”

I open the cupboard and grab a packet of microwave popcorn.

“Movie night?” She sounds a tad testy.

“Yep. You and Brooks can join if you want. I’ll make another bowl.” It’s a bogus offer—I ask only because I’m confident she’ll say no.

No way Kayla is going to willingly spend time with Brenna. The moment my girl walked through the front door, Kayla had reacted like a territorial cat. The claws came out, and she might as well have hissed. What made the entire encounter awesome was Brenna’s complete disinterest in the chick.

“So… Jake Connelly’s got a girl spending the night.” Even testier now.

“Yeah.”

“Must be serious.”

I don’t answer. Turning my back to her, I stick the popcorn in the microwave and punch in the time.

“Or is it not serious?” she prods.

Again I refrain from answering, because guess what—it’s none of her fucking business. But then Brenna speaks up from the doorway.

“Oh, it’sveryserious.” She saunters over, and even in a pair of plaid pants and a T-shirt, she’s so sexy that my body instantly responds to her. Or at least it does before I notice the Briar hockey logo on her chest.

“That’s blasphemy,” I say, pointing at her shirt.

“No, that’s blasphemy,” she replies, pointing atmyshirt.

I glance down and remember I’m wearing a gray tee with the Crimson logo over the left breast.

Near the counter, Kayla makes a disparaging sound.

Which spurs Brenna to twist around and beam at her. “Aren’t wesocute?” she gushes. “We’re like Romeo and Juliet!”

For a second, the blonde looks like she’s going to hiss for real. Instead, she flashes a mocking smile. “Uh-huh, you two are thecutest.”

“Aw, thank you, Kaylee.”

“Kayla,” she snaps before stomping out.

Brenna starts to laugh.

“You’re such a bitch,” I tell her.

“Yup. That girl wants you, though.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“You might be right about that. I swear, I can’t go anywhere without bumping into someone who’s into you. The chick in the bathroom, Bubble Butt’s girlfriend, your friend Hazel.”

“Hazel?” I frown at her. “Why would you say that? You don’t even know Hazel.”

“Oh, you mean she didn’t tell you she ambushed me on campus?”

What?

“I’m sorry—what?” I vocalize my shock. Hazel hadn’t mentioned that at all. Granted, we haven’t spoken much this week, but if she actually had confronted Brenna, you’d think that would be something she deemed important enough to share with me.

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