Page 73 of Crew Princess
“Har har.” I stepped in, slapping his shoulder.
Jordan chuckled, pulling out the food we’d grill. Guess he was feeling ambitious after all.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. We’re both just pissed, and taking it out on each other. That’s all. We’ll be fine. Give us booze, something to grill, something to burn, and let us bitch tonight. We’ll head back later feeling all refreshed and shit.”
I didn’t like my crew members hurting. It tore me up inside, but damned if these weren’t situations I could do nothing about it.
“I’m sorry, Jordan.”
He looked up at me. A small smile. “Thanks, B. We’ll figure it out. Always do.”
I wanted to believe that.
I didn’t.
Cross’ phone buzzed, and a second later, mine did too. I glanced down. It was Taz, and looking up, I didn’t even ask the question before Cross reached over and pressed the reject button.
As I put it back in my pocket, Jordan’s phone started going. “That about the Sunday dinner thing?”
Cross pivoted back. “What?”
Jordan rejected his call too, shoving the phone back in his pocket. “What’s going on? Sunday?”
I opened my mouth.
Cross spoke over me, his eyes hot on mine. “Really? You’re going to tell them?”
I closed my mouth, hurt searing my lungs for a second.
His eyes flashed a warning, and I felt pain slice my chest. He didn’t trust me? For serious?
“Uh…” Jordan’s eyes were narrowed, a hardness flashing there. “Wanna tell me why I’m supposed to deal with a girl I love talking about things I normally wouldn’t want her talking about, while you’re telling your girl to keep quiet about something maybe we should know? Hmmm?”
Yeah. He wasn’t happy. Not at all.
“It’s nothing serious.”
“Fuck you.”
Cross gave him a look, but Jordan wasn’t backing down. He stepped up, looking down at Cross from the two inches he had over him.
A shiver went down my spine, setting all the hair on the back of my neck upright.
I could’ve used Zellman right about now.
“Hey.” I stepped forward, my voice soft.
I maneuvered until I was between them, and then my hands went to Cross. He was like cement, and his chest muscles twitched under my hands, but his eyes never left Jordan’s.
“Hey.”
I pushed Cross back a foot before turning to peruse the scene.
Both were heated, but Jordan wasn’t as mad.
I spoke to him first. “You’re hurt.”
“Damn right I’m hurt.” He thrust his finger at Cross. “Maybe my patience is wearing thin. You’ve got shit happening in your household, and you ain’t saying shit to us about it. What the fuck’s that about, huh? Huh?! We’re here tonight ’cause of me. ’Cause I told you the shit going down with Z and myself. And you—you ain’t saying shit to us. Where’s the trust there,bro?”
