Page 8 of The One With The Secret Crushes

He sighed with relief. "I've been racking my brain trying to come up with something I did. But you want to know the good part about that?"

"Sure." I could not pull off cool. I don't know what part of me thought I could pull off flirting. I could not.

"I got to remember a lot of amazing things."

"Oh."

"I know a lot has changed but I was hoping we could be friends again."

Friends.Ugh, it was a wonderful word. I missed Scott and his soft comfort, but that word was so...not it.

He'd friend-zoned me.Again.

But it was a million times better than being forgotten, or even worse, hated. Being friends with Scott and his merry band of misfit lost boys had once been more than enough. It would be enough now, too. "Of course we can be friends. But I have my own car now so you don't need to worry about driving me places or that I'll fall asleep right before we get there."

He dipped his head to meet my gaze and my heart skipped an entire beat. "I don't mind, Mackenzie. If you need a ride, give me a call."

"I don't have your number," I blurted out.Smooth. So smooth.

He smiled again and my stupid heart swooped. "Yes you do."

Scott walkedme across the parking lot to the saloon and then got to work while the book club pretended like they didn't just watch me enter the bar with Scott.

Myfriend.

"Yes, but the way he chose his victims is what really kept me turning the pages." Liam Goodrich was doing the bulk of the talking about the actual plot of the book, not that I was listening. My eyes caught on Scott every time he emerged from the back. "He didn't choose his roommates. He always picked someone else on the block."

"I thought that was so smart," Junie Sinclair gushed. "And he was careful not to leave any connections."

"Until he kept the dog," Aunt Sharon groaned. "How does a serial killer who enjoys murdering people care more about the dog?"

My gaze strayed to the bar where Scott was now doing inventory. He had a pencil he kept clamping with his teeth or sticking behind his ear. Every time someone saidmurderordeathorkillerhe shook his head.

I had a feeling he wasn't a huge fan of the serial killer focus of the book club either.

"Because dogs are amazing!" Aviana laughed. "Isn't that right?" Barnaby drank up her attention as her hand dropped to scratch his head.

"Barnaby is the only one of you who isn't borderline psychotic," Scott grumbled.

Still Standing looked very different from the last time I stepped inside. The section we were seated in had been completely transformed. The booths were renovated with new polished wood and buttery leather, the floor was clean and free of peanut shells, everything gleamed. It even smelled like vanilla. An array of bourbons and whiskeys neatly lined the shelves behind the bar.

It was all very, very impressive.

"Just because our favorite kind of plot involves murderers doesn't mean we are too!" Maeve said it like she said it every time she saw Scott.

He pointed his pencil at us. "The first time someone around here disappears, I'm turning every one of you in. Except maybe Mackenzie. I don't think you've totally corrupted her yet."

My heart did a weird swooping thing again and I had to remind it that Scott was not going to fall in love with me.

Friends. We werefriends.

"Youcould corrupt her instead." Maeve winked.

Time stopped. My ears rang. She didnotjust say that.

Scott's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

I sat there in stunned silence.Oh no. No, just no.But it kept happening anyway.

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