Harper turned out the light and curled up into a ball, trying to sleep. Her leg throbbed and her back ached, and the T-shirt felt uncomfortably tight around her collar. It kept getting caught beneath her weight as she rolled to one side, then the other. It was tugging at her and choking her, keeping her from sinking into sleep. Eventually she wriggled out of it and tossed it to the floor. It didn’t even smell like him anymore.
Chapter 8
“Tell me you’re free tonight.”
“Uh… what? Who is this?” But Miranda knew who it was. She would have recognized the voice even if she hadn’t recognized the number (which she’d memorized back in ninth grade).
“I’m bored,” Kane said, affecting a little kid voice. “Come play with me?”
Her chest tightened, and a warm glow spread through her cheeks.
“It’s kind of short notice,” she pointed out, toying with him. “A true lady wouldn’t accept an offer made in such haste.”
“Well then, it’s a good thing you’re not-”
“Don’t even say it,” she warned. This whole banter thing was so much easier when he wasn’t there to see the crimson flush rising in her cheeks. She could put her hand over the mouthpiece whenever she needed to mask her giggles and gasps. It was easy to sound cool and unconcerned.
He laughed-a rich, warm sound made all the sexier by the knowledge that she’d caused it.
“There’s this thing, kind of a pre-party, and it’ll probably be lame, but I thought I’d check it out,” he explained.
“Pre-party? So I’m not good enough to take to the
“Insecurity doesn’t suit you, my dear. The actual party’s tomorrow night-this is just a little warm-up.”
“Why not?” She tried not to sound too eager.
“Cool. You think you can give me a ride? I figure, in case I get wasted…”
Well, that solved the mystery. He just needed a designated driver; it’s not that he thought he’d have fun with her, it’s that he knew she could be trusted not to have any fun. She pressed her palm against the mouthpiece and sighed. It didn’t matter why he had called. She would go, anyway, just as she would spend the next half hour tormenting herself about what to wear, even though she’d already convinced herself that he didn’t want anything from her beyond the occasional ride and no-strings-attached hookup. There was always a chance, and even an eternal pessimist like Miranda couldn’t help but cling to that.
Adam brought her to The Whole Enchilada, her favorite restaurant-as Kaia had often pointed out, there was no good food in Grace, but the local Mexican food came the closest. Harper hadn’t wanted to admit that she was addicted to their guacamole (”could be fresher,” according to Kaia) and loved their burritos (”overstuffed”), but both girls agreed that the stale chips and crappy salsa-half as spicy and twice as watery as you’d want-were worth suffering through for the oversize frozen margaritas. They were frothy and sweet, with a double shot of tequila-and served by waiters who could be counted on not to card.
Tonight, Harper sipped a Coke.
She hadn’t said much after hello, nor had she bothered to listen as Adam babbled on about his latest basketball game or some lame joke the guys had pulled on their coach. She’d ordered a chicken enchilada, but when it appeared in front of her, she couldn’t even imagine eating it. She nibbled at the edges, crunched down on a couple chips, and drank a lot of water. It was a waste of a meal, but then, Adam was paying-so who cared?
“You know, my grandfather died when I was a kid,” he said abruptly.
She froze, a forkful of rice halfway to her mouth. She’d been expecting him to bring up Kaia, and she’d readied herself to shoot him down. But she didn’t have a contingency plan for this.
“He was the only grandparent I had,” Adam continued. “My dad’s parents, they kind of… disappeared, or something. Before I was born. And my mom’s mom died when she was a kid. But my grandfather was around for a while, and when he died, you know, it was really sudden. It sucked.”
Harper felt like she was supposed to say something. “Yeah.”
“I didn’t, uh, I didn’t really get it, at first. I was just a kid. I kept asking my mom why we didn’t go over to see him anymore, and then she’d just start freaking out and crying. So then after a while, I just stopped asking.” He gave her a weird look, half determined and half scared. Harper wondered what he expected now: Did he think that just mentioning someone dying was going to make her cry, and then he’d have to mop up the mess? “I know it’s not the same, or anything…”
“No,” she agreed.