Jordan and Zellman shared a look now.

“So this is kind of about Ryerson.” Jordan cleared his throat. “I didn’t know if I should say anything, but he’s dating someone. And—”

“Who?” I asked.

“Who?” Jordan parroted. “You fucking with me now? Race Ryerson. Douchebag’s cousin.”

“No. No.” I waved my hand in the air. “I got confused.” I was making a mess of this. I’d been so scared they were talking about Cross and me. He said Race was dating someone. “Who’s he dating?”

He adjusted in his seat, sitting up a little straighter. “This is going to be awkward.”

“What?” I was lost. “Why?”

Jordan looked from me to Cross in the rearview mirror, grimacing.

“Like Z said, Cross, you’ve been spending a lot of time with Bren lately. I mean, like, a lot.”

“What are you getting at?” Cross asked. His hand clenched into a fist, but he kept it on the seat between us.

I itched to take it, to soothe that frustration out, but I couldn’t. A rock had fully lodged in my chest. It was pressing against my sternum.

“I’m getting that you probably don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“What?” Cross demanded. “Get at your point, Jordan. I don’t like being yanked around.”

Z hissed, “Just tell them.”

Jordan paused a beat. “Taz.”

There was silence for another beat.

“What?!” Cross jerked forward.

“Race Ryerson is dating your sister. Taz.”

I… Nope. I had no words or thoughts. I… Nope. I still didn’t.

“That guy is with my sister? How do you know?”

“We saw ’em at the movies last night.”

Zellman shifted again so his back was against his door. “They were holding hands when they left.”

“We followed them to the country club in Fallen Crest,” Jordan said. “He took her to dinner there.”

Zellman nodded with every word Jordan said. “Yeah, like, literally wined and dined her, and he took her there. Of all places. The richest pricks’ place in Fallen Crest.” He nodded to Cross. “Might want to check her, make sure her head’s not getting big if she’s hanging at spots like that. Though I gotta say, if I were him, I’d go with Taz as a second option too. Who else is he going to tap? Monica’s still hung up on Cross. B was his first choice, and I’m tapping Sunday. Taz is good quality. She’s girlfriend material. I can see why he picked her.”

“Could you stop using the word tap and my sister in the same sentence?” Cross’ eyes narrowed. “He probably took her there because he knew none of our crew would be there.”

“Sorry,” Z said to Cross. “The dude’s rich, isn’t he?” he asked me. “His dad owns a Harley store?”

I shrugged. I didn’t care. I was more worried about Cross. “You didn’t know?”

“Every free moment I have, I’m with you, but she has been asking about you.” He gave me a meaningful look, and I flashed back to our conversation at Tuesday Tits.

“Maybe it wasn’t all about the charity thing.”

“What charity thing?” Z’s eyes darted between us.

“I don’t know yet.”

I could feel Jordan’s attention. He’d dropped the bomb. He was waiting for it to detonate.

I glanced to Cross. It was his sister.

He clenched his jaw and sat back, looking out the window.

His silence was telling.

“Let’s lay off it,” I told Jordan. “How far till we get wherever we’re going?”

He’d been studying Cross in the mirror, but looked at the clock on the dashboard. “I think another hour.”

This ride wasn’t going to get any better.

I pulled out my phone and headphones.

A little while later, Jordan pulled into a fast food place. The guys had been complaining about being hungry and needing to piss. The two 20-ouncers that’d been filled up with coffee and soda hadn’t helped either.

Jordan and Zellman hopped out right away, running inside.

Cross and I moved at a slower pace.

“You upset about Taz?” I asked him as we got out.

Resting his arms on the truck’s back-end, he glanced down a moment. He shook his head, still looking at the ground. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling.”

I paused and waited for him.

He looked back up, a smile flashing for a moment as he stared at me. “Been distracted with you, honestly.”

Those flutters started again, tickling me on the inside.

The lines around his mouth softened, and he reached forward, grabbing my arm. He tugged me over to him, but I glanced back at the building. Jordan and Zellman were at the counter, ordering. Pee breaks could wait, apparently.

Knowing they were distracted, at least for the moment, I succumbed.

I let Cross pull me toward the front of the pickup so we were hidden, and he wrapped his arms around me. My head rested against his chest, and he held me as I slid my arms around his waist.

We’d done this hug before, so many times, but this was different. This hold, this touch, what it stood for—it was all so very different.

The flutters were building again.

I felt his voice rumble through his chest. “We’re going to have to have the talk. You know that, right?”

I nodded, my head moving against his chest. “I know.”

He ran a hand up and down my arm. He leaned back against the truck and opened his legs a little wider. I scooted in closer and felt him resting his head against mine.

“We’ll have to tell them too.”

“Later,” I responded. We’d deal with it then. I closed my eyes until we heard Zellman calling our names.

I stepped back and Cross moved around me.

“We’re coming,” he yelled.

“You want us to order your food?”

Cross turned to me, and I nodded. They knew what we liked.

“Yeah. Give us another minute,” Cross yelled back.

“Will do! B, you want a soda?”

“Yeah!” I yelled. “Thanks, Z.”

He waved at us distractedly before going back in.

I didn’t return to Cross’ arms, and he leaned back against the truck, eyeing me.

I frowned. “What?”

He jutted his chin toward me. “Why aren’t you freaking? You’d usually be freaking right now.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m too tired?”

“Bullshit.” He tilted his head to the side. “What’s going on with you?”

“I don’t know. Really.”

“Bren.”

“Really.” I laughed. “I don’t know. Something’s different. Maybe it was me stabbing the principal, or maybe I don’t know. I really don’t.”

But I felt good, better. I was going with that. Things didn’t scare me as much. I felt better. Life wasn’t as bleak, though it probably should’ve been if history was the best prediction of the future. I should be scared as hell.

“I didn’t go to jail. That’s it.”

He laughed shortly. “I doubt it. You wouldn’t have cared if you went in there.”

I should’ve, but he was right. I wouldn’t have four months ago. And that told me how much I did care now. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“You haven’t gone to watch the house since the incident either.”

Ah.

There was the underlying reason he wanted to talk. Not about us, but about me.

Some of the flutters dissipated, and I bit my lip. “We’re talking about that stuff now?”

“I envision a lot of kissing for us in the future, so yeah. Let’s do this now. I’d ask you anyway. I mean, I might not say it outright, but I’d still ask.”

“About kissing?”

His eyes darkened, but his mouth lifted. “You know what I mean. Do you think we should talk about it?”

About us, about me, about everything. He was asking about everything.

I had a different opinion. “Nope. I’m good.”

“Bren.” He reached for me.

I stepped back, evading him. “I like what we’re doing. You’re right. I would normally be running for the hills or looking for fights, but I’m not. I don’t want to force anything.” My voice dropped to a whisper. “I can’t lose you.”

“Why do you think you’d lose me?”

I didn’t want to open old wounds and go back to where I’d been before I stabbed Principal Neeon. “Just… Don’t push, okay? Not with that.”

“Okay.” He nodded. “I won’t.”

Some of the knots in my chest loosened.