Page 20 of Lost Boy

“Hunter Thompson.” I lick my ice cream, not missing as Nash’s eyes dart to my lips and darken the slightest bit.

“Holy shit, for real?” he mutters, thankfully tearing his gaze from my mouth because it’s freaking uncomfortable to be stared at while eating ice cream. “I had no idea.” It’s like everything I just said clicks because his eyebrows pull together slightly. “Wait, you live with Cade?”

“Cade, Watson, and Hunter.” I nod. “For now anyway. Until my dorm situation is figured out. It was flooded a few weeks ago. But from what I’ve heard, they haven’t even started renovating it.”

“Huh, no shit?” he barely mumbles before he stops walking altogether and turns toward me. “Look, Haley, I’ve only hung out with you twice. And once was on the dance floor, and we didn’t even get to talk. But Cade seems to just … pop upeverywhere. So, I gotta ask … is there something between you two?” He pauses. “I just don’t want to waste my time if I don’t have a chance. Because I like you, Haley. And I like hanging out with you. But I’m not the type of guy to want in on a love triangle.”

He flashes me that grin, and I truly believe if my mind wasn’t so caught up in Cade, I’d probably be melting, like every other girl does.

“Even if you are gorgeous and super cool to hang out with.”

You barely know me,is what I want to say.

He doesn’t know that I sleep with my socks on at night. Or that I eat an excessive amount of sugar and that I currently have over two hundred thousand unread emails in my Gmail account and thirty-seven unread texts and twenty-nine voice mails. And that my phone is almost always dying because I don’t plug it in long enough. I see twenty percent charged, and I consider that golden.

All the things about me that drive most people crazy, this guy has no clue about. Yet here he is, saying he likes me. He’s being sweet and telling me I’m cool to hang out with. But I need to let go of the fantasy that Cade Huff and I could ever have some crazy love affair. He’s never going to want me like that. And Nash is a catch by anyone’s standards.

Knowing that I’m taking too long to answer his question, I smile. “No, there’s nothing between us. Just friends.”

Relief washes over his face, and the corner of his lips turns up when I pat his arm.

“I like hanging out with you too.”

I’m not lying because there is nothing going on between Cade and me. I like him, and he likes kissing gorgeous ballerinas with perfect, long legs. It’s time for me to let my crush go and move on.

“Good,” he says softly. “That’s really, really good.”

And maybe he’s right. Perhaps it will be good. Maybe it already is.

Everyone knows you never end up with the person you have a crush on. It’s time for me to stop thinking the sun rises and sets on Cade Huff’s left asscheek.

6

Cade

The music stops, and Poppy looks at me with a smile on her face. “Now, we’re getting somewhere, Huff.”

Grabbing my water bottle, I take a drink and wipe my mouth. “Call me butter, Princess Poppy. Because I’m on a roll.” I give her a cocky look. “You’d better be careful, walking off the stage after we perform.”

“Why?” she huffs out, knowing I’m about to throw some off-the-wall line at her—but she’s getting used to it.

I shrug. “Because, when the women in there see my moves, their panties are gonna drop, and they’ll probably throw them up onstage.” I wink. “Be prepared—that’s all I’m saying.”

“You’re too much,” she deadpans. “Literally.”

“My mama tells me I’m perfect,” I drawl, and she pretends to gag.

We are a few weeks away from our performance, and if we don’t win this shit, I’ll be shocked. Our song is fucking awesome. It’s upbeat, just like our routine. And I’ll be competing against abunch of dudes with two left feet when it comes time to dance. I have it in the bag. And my dance partner is wildly talented. And the more I get to know her, the more I feel like I understand her.

It’s not that her parents are pressuring her to do good. It’s that shehasto do good because her parents aren’t in the picture and she has little to no money to put herself through school. She is here strictly on a scholarship. Dancing is her lifeline and her way out of her past. Pain in the ass as she might be, I respect how cutthroat she is for it.

I have, however, heard of her giving Hunter’s new girlfriend, Sutton, a hard time. And he’s my boy. My brother. If someone is fucking with his girl, they are fucking with him too.

“So, I’m not trying to get allGossip Girlwith ya, but I have to know, what the fuck is the issue with you and Hunter’s lady friend?” I put my back to the wall of the studio and sink down onto my ass. “Why are you being a mean girl? On Wednesdays, do you even wear pink?”

“Cade, sometimes, it’s oddly creepy how manychick flicktitles and references you know,” she says, staring at me like I’m a freak.

Walking toward me, she wipes her forehead with the back of her hand before sitting down next to me. “Look, I’ve had to work my entire life just to make ends meet. I’ve gone to bed hungry. I’ve been scared to close my eyes because of who might break into my house, and I’ve danced until my feet bled just so I could be here.” She shrugs her slender shoulders. “And Sutton Savage has the world at her fingertips. And all resources at the drop of a hat. She got into Juilliard—which, by the way, is impossible—and yet she left there to be here.” She pulls her lips to the side in thought. “I don’t respect that. And not to mention that Paige, Hunter’s actual girlfriend, is one of my good friends.”

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