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“Yo, Gage.”
“Hmm?” I reluctantly tore my gaze from Cassidy to look at Grant and throw back the chip he’d thrown at me.
“Shit, I thought you’d gone deaf for a minute.”
“I was distracted. What?”
“I bet you were.” Adam and Jake laughed next to him and Grant pointedly looked at Cassidy. My foot shot out and co
“Yeah, sure.” Cassidy laughed at something Jackie said and like an addict drawn to heroin, I couldn’t help but look over to watch her. My first observation still held true; it sounded like damn angels when she laughed.
Ethan looked past Jackie and Cassidy. “You’re going tomorrow?” When I nodded he continued. “All right, as long as I don’t have to be the only one to deal with their drunk asses at the end of the night, I’m in too.”
Cassidy laughed softly and turned to look at me with a smile that had me fighting not to lean over and kiss her there in front of everyone. Wait, tomorrow? Tomorrow was Saturday. “Ah, never mind, sorry, I forgot what tomorrow was. I can’t go.”
“What?” Jake and Grant said at the same time, and Grant continued. “No. Guys’ night. Which means both of y’all need to be there.”
“Sorry.” I shrugged; I was anything but sorry. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, I already have plans.”
“Bro. Two words. Guys’. Night.” Grant looked at me like I was missing the hidden meaning and losing my damn mind.
I knew what guys’ night entailed, but until a few months ago when I realized that Cassidy and Tyler were really together, I hadn’t cared for guys’ night much. And was kind of relieved I had a legit excuse to not go now. “I have a date. Sorry.”
Adam stopped kissing Dana’s neck and looked at me with one brow raised and shot a quick glance to Cass, then back to me, and shook his head. He knew about all the girls I’d been with at the end of last year, why I’d been with them, and how I felt about Cass. I’d spilled everything in my truck on the way back from punching Tyler that night. It was obvious he thought I was going out with some random girl; I’d have to clue him in that my date was with Cassidy. I turned to say Ethan was on his own but stopped when I saw Cassidy’s stiff posture. Her face was completely blank. If it weren’t for Jackie shooting daggers at me, I would have thought Tyler had shown up. Even still, I looked around me and couldn’t figure out why Cassidy’s mask would be back. Didn’t she want to have our Saturday night together? We’d started watching movies every Saturday night when I lived with her and Tyler, and we’d easily fallen into the same routine since she’d moved in with me. Maybe she’d made plans with Jackie, and that’s why Jackie was looking at me like she was about to go psycho firecracker on me.
My confusion only intensified, and by the time Cassidy got back from getting groceries with Jackie the next day, I was completely dumbfounded. She hadn’t said a word the entire way back to our place last night, hadn’t gotten up for our morning hug before or after my run that morning. And I cut breakfast with Ty short so I could be home when she got back. She still didn’t say anything and kept taking the groceries I was trying to help put away out of my hands and doing it herself. After she finished putting everything away, she walked into her room and shut the door.
I finished the rest of the homework I had for the weekend and decided to order pizza so she wouldn’t have to cook that night. After hanging up the phone, I walked over to her room and knocked on the door.
“Yeah?”
I turned the knob and pushed open the door, worrying when I saw her curled up in bed. “You feeling okay, darlin’?”
She sighed and turned so she was facing me. “What’s up, Gage?”
“Uh—I ordered a pizza.” It sounded more like a question, but I was so damn confused I didn’t know what to say or do anymore.
“Thanks, but I’m pretty sure I can fend for myself when you’re out. I’ve been known to get in the kitchen every now and then.”
Man, with that tone, she’d skipped snarky and gone straight California bitch on me. “Um . . . I’m not going out.”
Her eyebrows shot straight up and she mashed her mouth together tightly before forcing a smile that looked pained. “So your date’s coming here. Did you want me to leave?”
“Cass, seriously? It’s Saturday.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So . . . ? It’s movie night.”
“Wow, um . . .” She shook her head slightly and her whiskey eyes got even wider. “I’m sorry, but I’d rather not be watching movies with you and your date.”
Holy shit, she really thought I had a date with someone other than her? I knew this wasn’t exactly a date, and she lived with me, but these were my nights with her. She had to know I wasn’t about to let someone come between us and our night together, much less another girl. I mean honestly, it’s not like I was subtle with everything I felt about her. I was pretty damn pathetic when it came to Cassidy; anything involving her and I was there with a smile on my face. Not that I cared; I was in love with the girl, and everyone knew it even if I hadn’t told them. Shit, even the guys last night were talking about how I couldn’t stop looking at her, and she’d been right there. “Darlin’,” I said softly, “you are out of your damn mind if you think I have a date with some chick tonight.”
Her face scrunched up and she looked so damn cute I had to force the corners of my mouth not to turn up. She had been upset because she thought I was going on a date. Everything from last night through today finally made sense, and yeah, it felt damn good to know she’d been jealous. “But last night . . . you told everyone—” She stopped and tilted her head to the side. “You don’t have a date?”
“Oh no, I do. But apparently my date would rather spend the night alone in bed than on the couch with me, a movie, and a pizza.”
“You didn’t go out with the guys because of our movie night?” she asked softly.
God, I was in love with this girl. “Uh, yeah. Now are you go
She failed miserably at hiding her smile and slowly got out of the bed, making her way toward me and the door. When she passed me she paused and turned her head up to look back at me. “Thanks, Gage.”
Chapter Eleven
C ASSIDY
GLANCING DOWN AT my watch, I almost sighed in relief when I saw there were only five minutes left of my shift. It was Friday and, for whatever reason, this Friday seemed like a Monday. We had angry customers in the drive-thru who yelled at Lori because it took her almost three minutes to get their six-drink order out to them, then a snotty kid threw his hot chocolate on the ground because it had whipped cream—seriously, what kid doesn’t like whipped cream?—and his mom demanded we make him another for free, even though she’d never mentioned anything about the whipped cream before I’d made the drink. Lori had gotten emotional after the six-drink order, and we’d traded spots right after, so she had gone out to clean up the mess while I started on another hot chocolate, and in her barely two months of preggo glory . . . she proceeded to get morning sickness, right there in front of everyone. This, incidentally, made said snotty kid throw up right next to her as well. If that hadn’t been enough, the mother started yelling that she was going to sue us for causing her child to throw up from, and I quote, “forcing that awful whipped cream into my baby boy.” I hadn’t meant to, but I was so over the day already I’d snorted out a laugh when she said that, and she decided to take her anger out on me. Said that it wasn’t saying much for Starbucks if they’d let a drugged-out child with track marks make their customer’s drinks as she pointed to my tattoo of Ursa Major on my arm. Yay me.