Page 57 of Craving Venom

Tria’s grin turns downright devious. “Jason’s car got totaled.”

My eyes snap open. “What?”

“Yup.” She pops the ‘p’ with satisfaction. “It’s completely wrecked. Might as well be a scrap heap.”

“Is he okay?”

She waves a dismissive hand. “Oh, that’s the bad news. He’s going to live.”

“Thank god.”

Tria recoils like I just slapped her across the face. “Excuse me?”

I tilt my head at her. “What?”

“You—” She blinks. “You’re actually okay? I just told you your ex-boyfriend, who faked his own death, could’ve been wiped

off the face of the planet, and you’re not dancing on his hypothetical grave?”

I shrug, sitting up against the headboard. “I don’t want him dying over a breakup.” Then, I grin. “But I am happy his car got totaled.”

Tria shakes her head, laughing. “You’re too nice, you know that?”

I raise a brow. “That was me being nice. If I were really nice, I wouldn’t be so happy about his insurance premium skyrocketing.”

She snorts. “Okay, true.”

I throw the blanket off me and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, ready to haul myself up and pretend like I have my shit together.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

“Getting ready for class?”

“Yeah, no, you’re not. Dr. Harrington canceled his classes today. Said something about giving everyone extra time to focus on their projects.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,oh.” She smirks. “And here I thought you’d be happy about getting a free day to recover from your self-inflicted near-death experience.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“Too late.” She claps her hands. “Anyway, I’m heading out with Xaden to check out some clinical firms for research. Wanna tag along?”

I shake my head. “I’m doing a different project. I’d rather take care of it on my own.”

Tria raises a brow. “You’re going to take care of that looking like that?”

I stare at her blankly for a second before realization crashes into me. I feel like absolute shit.

I groan, flopping back onto my bed. “Fuck me.”

“Not necessary.” She grins. “Because I am an amazing best friend, and I brought you a hangover cure.”

I squint at her. “What kind of cure?”

She pulls a water bottle and two painkillers from her jacket pocket.

“That’s not a cure. That’s common fucking sense.”

---