Page 100 of From the Wreckage
“There are no old times worth repeating.”
We hit the stairwell, his shoulder brushing mine as he leans in. “Don’t be like that. You’ll love it. And it’d be nice… You and me hanging out again.” His tone softens, low and coaxing. “Like it’s supposed to be.”
My stomach flips. “I said no.” I pick up my pace, but he matches it effortlessly, his cologne sharp in the narrow stairwell.
We spill out into the sunlight, and my breath catches. Meghan is leaning against the railing, scrolling on her phone. She looks up, her smile stretching when she sees me. “Hey, girl! Thought I’d catch you here.”
Joey’s grin widens like fate just handed him an ally. “Perfect timing.” He turns to Meghan, tilting his head toward me. “I was just inviting Bri to the game on Saturday. She’s playing hard to get.”
Meghan blinks, her gaze flicking between us. “The game? Oh, that could be fun.”
My pulse spikes. “No, it couldn’t.”
Joey gives her a charming shrug. “Help me out here. She’s being stubborn.”
Meghan laughs, sliding her phone into her bag. “She’s always stubborn.” She bumps my shoulder playfully. “Come on, Bri. A football game, some tailgating? You could use a night out.”
I gape at her, betrayal burning hot in my chest. “Are you serious?”
Meghan’s expression flickers—something quick and unreadable—before smoothing back into friendly insistence. “What? I’m just saying it wouldn’t hurt to have some fun.”
Joey’s grin sharpens, triumphant. “See? She gets it.”
My hands curl into fists. “I said no.”
For a heartbeat, something dark flickers in his eyes again before he hides it with a chuckle. “Suit yourself. But I’ll save you a seat anyway.” His voice drops, smooth as silk and twice as suffocating. “You’ll come around.”
I stomp down the steps, my voice shaking. “Don’t count on it.”
But the way Joey smiles at me—like he already knows I’ll go—makes dread coil tighter in my stomach.
CHAPTER 73
Brielle
By the timeMeghan and I haul our backpacks up the stairs to the apartment, I’m wrung out. Between Joey ambushing me after class and Meghan playing cheerleader to his “invite,” all I want is silence.
As soon as I push through the door, my phone buzzes with a video call. It’s Dad.
I force a smile, swiping to answer. “Hey.”
His face fills the screen, lined with exhaustion, but his eyes hold their usual warmth. “Hey, kiddo. Just wanted to check in. See how your first week’s going.”
“Good,” I say quickly.
Behind me, Meghan drops her bag on the counter and leans into the camera’s view. “Hi, Mr. Kincaid!” she chirps, then adds with a grin, “Convince your daughter to come with me to the football game this weekend. There’s a party after, and she could use a little fun.”
My glare could burn through steel. “Meghan.”
Dad’s smile falters. His brows pull together, concern edging into his features. “Football game?”
I mutter something about needing privacy and retreat to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. I sink onto the bed, phone propped against my knees.
Dad’s still watching me, suspicion in his eyes. “What’s going on, Bri? You look tired. And don’t give me that ‘everything’s fine’ crap.”
I exhale, the weight of everything pressing down on my shoulders. “Joey switched into my sociology class. He invited me to the game on Saturday. Meghan thinks I should go.”
His jaw tightens. “Joey. Christ.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Just… Stay close to your friends, okay? Will Sophie and Melissa be there too?”
