Page 164 of The Casualty of Us
“Where the fuck were you?”
I blink up at his angry eyes and frown. “What are you talking about?”
“I just went to the bathroom—”
“I was literally just looking for you.”
I cut him off with a careless shrug, taking one of the boxes out of his hands and immediately being hit with the smell of fall baked goods. “We must have missed each other.” I glance back up to see him looking a little bit at a loss but still a whole lot suspicious. “You ready to go?”
What a productive trip to the bathroom.
Oh,yeah, that bruise isn’t going away anytime soon—and my other ones from Halloween night just finished healing, which means I’m going to have to find a plausible explanation for this one.
Shit.
I scowl at the ugly mark spreading out over my shoulder in the bathroom mirror. Giving it an experimental roll and finding it sore but happy that everything seems to be functioning properly. Maybe I can blame it on cheer if someone sees it. That’s believable. A pyramid tumble or something.
Gosh, it really is turning out to be the extracurricular that just keeps on giving.
The buzz of my phone starts up on the counter, and I shrug my sweater back up quickly before grabbing it. My lips lift automatically at the sight of Hayes’s name on the screen despite the drop in my stomach that happens because of my most recent activities, but I still slide my finger across it without hesitation.
Making two choices at once for all of us.
“Dimples.” I put the phone on speaker with the greeting and hear his puff of laughter come across it.
“Freckles.” His voice drops low and playful and has the grin on my face growing as I walk back into my bedroom. “Did you have a good Thanksgiving, baby?”
“I did,” I sigh, dragging it out a bit with my eyes going to double-check that the lock on my door is still turned. “What about you? How does Thanksgiving with a bunch of rock stars work?”
“Chiller than you’d imagine actually,” he scoffs with amusement. “It mainly consists of ordering a bunch of Chinese unless someone remembered to cater, and then smok—”
His words cut out suddenly, and my eyes narrow, immediately picking up on it and teasing him mercilessly. “Wait, Dimples…are youhigh?”
I make sure to sound good and horrified and let him sit for a long moment before he finally admits, “Just a little.”
A giggle almost escapes me as I lean up against the wall beside the bookshelf I have pushed out from it, settling in to totally fuck with him. “I really don’t know what to say right now.”
“Freckles—”
“I mean, of all of the things.”
“O, wait—”
“I can’t believe you would—”
“It was just a brownie!”
“Do this without me.” His words come to a stop, and I fight the giggle that still wants to bubble up, giving him some of the truth to the joke that bothers me instead. “I mean, you keep having firsts without me, and I keep giving you mine.” I pause, some shred of insecurity rising with it all and leaving me adding. “Seems a little unfair.”
Not really sure if I’m joking or not now.
A beat passes before his voice comes across the phone softly, “Ophelia Sage.”
“Stop it,” I snort.
“You can’t even see me.”
“I don’t need to.”
