Page 28 of Chasing Storm
“Awesome. Let’s meet up next week.”
“Definitely. I’ll message you.”
“’Kay.”
We hang up, and then I feel a bit lost after all the activity of the last hour or so.
Glancing at the bed, I remember that I have to make it up again, so I set about doing that and perfecting my bed to crawl back into later. Making some toast and a cup of tea, I settle down to some TV for the night, trying not to ponder too hard why Cass sounded so strange andwhyshe rang me today when she knows I’m sick. Usually, she would leave me alone with a quick text to check that I’m still alive.
It's odd, and something I may have to ask her at some point when we meet up. I almost got the feeling she was angling for something…but what?
18
THATCHER
Iwave Cassidy over as she approaches the table we have in the dark corner of the pub, nowhere near Notting Hill. We have business to discuss, which we don’t want anyone eavesdropping on.
“About time,” JP comments as she sits.
I’m friendlier and smile at her.
She grimaces at JP, but then turns her bright grin to me before looking over at Josh. “So why am I here?”
“We haven’t heard from you for a few days since Storm left the pub in a hurry,” I say cautiously. “We were worried about her. Is she okay?”
“You could have asked me that over the phone.”
“True, but we have other things to talk about.”
She purses her black lips in stark contrast to her pale face. “She's fine. A bit under the weather, but fine.”
I lean forward, catching a note in her tone. “Under the weather how? Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Spring flu.”
I blink and exchange a glance with JP. “Flu?” I ask, relief flooding me.
“Yep. What did you think?” Cassidy asks.
“Doesn’t matter,” I mutter.
“He means he thought she was off shagging some fuckwit with a big dick and that pisses him off.” JP snickers, but I know he is as relieved to find out that isn’t the case as I am.
“Jealous, you mean?” Cassidy asks with a smirk.
“Grrr.” I can’t answer that. I’m so jealous, if that had been the case, I would march over to Storm’s and show that prick what a real cock looks like, along with a close-up of my fist.
Josh seems unperturbed and broods some more into his ubiquitous cup of coffee.
“Calm your tits,” she giggles. “Storm doesn’t do that, and like I said, she’s been ill.”
I blink. “Is she okay now, then? Or should we go round with chicken soup? Tissues? Paracetamol?”
“Stop with the questions. You’ve already made me spill more than the friend code would allow, and I only did it, so you didn’t go down there and make fools of yourselves with some possessive caveman attitude for no reason.” Then she fixes me with a fierce glare. “But I hear some of you haven’t been quite so dick-in-hand as others.”
I sit up with a frown as JP and Josh turn their gazes to me as well. I squirm like I’m guilty, but I haven’t done anything. “Me?” I ask incredulously. “I have been the epitome of a saint.”
“Not according to my source,” she says sternly. “I said I would help you if you kept your dicks in your pants. I won’t unleash you on my best friend if you insist on acting like man-whores for the rest of your lives.”
