Page 55 of Revolve
“They felt bad leaving me home alone. But they probably should have left me. There was screaming, a fire, and a lot of cursing.” He seems to shudder at the memory.
“Never mind. I’ll just call a cab,” I say.
There’s more rustling. “You want me to find someone sober? I’m sure Aiden will pick you up.”
“No,” I rush out. “Don’t—”
“Aiden!” I hear his door opening and then his feet padding across the hall. “Are you decent? I’m coming in.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. There’s more conversation happening, and with impatience riddling me, I eye the twist toy vending machines. The ones with plastic rings and random figurines. An idea pops in my head.
It’s been months since I’ve pranked Kian by pretending to be his stalker ex, Tabitha. She was a nightmare—hacked our phones, slept in our bed, siphoned our gas. After that, Kian felt guilty for putting us through that mess, and moped around for weeks. So I started pranking him. Sure, he was a little scared, but the more “she” targeted him, the more he stopped blaming himself. Now I just do it for fun.
There’s a muffled scream, a groan, and more shuffling. “Hello?” Aiden’s irritated voice comes through the receiver. “What’s wrong?”
“Hey, Cap. Nothing’s wrong. Was just calling to see if Kian could give me a ride, but all good, we called a cab,” I lie.
“You sure? I can come right now,” he says sincerely. Kian snickers in the back. He’s going to regret this when he’s sober. “And who’s we?”
“We?” Kian must have snatched the phone.
Fuck, did I say that?I clear my throat. “No one. I’ll be home soon.” I hang up the corded phone, and just as I’m turning, Sierra’s behind me.
“No luck?” she asks. Her hair’s soaked and stringy, but somehow, she looks as good as she usually does. Fuck, maybe even better. Her nose is red from the cold; so are the apples of her cheeks. I’d bet her lips would be cold if I kissed her.
The thought snatches me back into reality, where that is not a fucking option. Or even a thought I should be having. I clear my throat. “How’d you figure?”
“You slammed that phone pretty hard,” she says. “But it’s okay, Ajay said his shift is over in ten, so he can give us a ride back.”
Wonderful. “How much does he charge?” I ask flatly.
“He’s not a chauffeur. He’s doing me a favor.”
“And what are you doing to return that favor?”
“People can do favors without needing something in return,” she snaps.
“I saw the way he looked at you. This isn’t just a fucking favor, Sierra.”
“Not everything is about hooking up. He’s a friend,” she says. “Even if he was more than that, that’s none of your business.”
“Friends don’t just cook for you when you’re in the area, give you rides that throw them off their route, or size up the guy you’re with.”
“You’ve given me food before,” she simply states.
“We’re not friends.”
The ding of a bell splinters the heated look stringing us together.Neither of us moves, but when Ajay interrupts our stare down, Sierra’s the first to look away.
“Just clocked out,” he says. “My car’s out back.”
Outside, Ajay unlocks the doors, and Iaccidentallypush Sierra out of the way and call shotgun. She curses under her breath and sits in the back seat. That doesn’t stop Ajay the cook from glancing at his rearview mirror to talk to her the entire ride. It also doesn’t stop him from dropping me off first, which lets Sierra switch seats when I exit the car. But before she can sit inside, I grab her wrist. Green eyes watch me curiously, and I don’t know why I do it, maybe because she’s in my hoodie, or because her words from earlier about trying fucked with my head, but I yank her forward.
“What are you doing?” she asks before she hits my chest. “I’m not a hugger.”
“I know.” I pull her closer.
“Dylan.”
