Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
“Hey,” Lawson says.
My heartbeat accelerates like a race car as he slowly approaches me. Like Fenn, he can pull off a suit like nobody’s business. And I’m startled to notice he’d cut his hair, the light-brown strands no longer around his shoulders, but curling under his ears.
We haven’t spoken since the night in the greenhouse. I hadn’t known what to say to him, and clearly he returned that sentiment because he hadn’t reached out either.
“Hey,” I answer softly. “I…um… how’ve you been?”
“Been great,” he drawls, then offers a cheeky smile. “Am I ever anything but?”
I see right through the cavalier response. “You’re a terrible liar, Lawson.”
A thoughtful gleam enters his gray eyes. “Not usually, no. Only around you, Casey.”
I don’t know why, but my pulse quickens at that. “I’ve tried talking to Fenn on your behalf,” I start.
“Of course you have.” He laughs under his breath. “But don’t. He has every right to despise me.” Lawson moves closer, his voice lowering. “I only came out here to check on you. I never even messaged you after that night to see if you were okay. That was wrong.”
“I was okay,” I promise him. “Still am.”
A soft, sad smile touches his lips. “All right. Good.” Now he steps away from me. “That’s all I wanted.” Another backward step. “I’m glad everything worked out for you two. Truly.”
“Thanks,” I murmur.
“Take care of Bishop. Someone’s gotta look out for him now that I’ve been exiled.”
Guilt pricks at my chest. “Lawson…”
“Joking, Tresscott. Just a joke.” He starts to walk away, then stops again, turning to face me. I can’t for the life of me decipher his expression. “Can I ask you something?”
I swallow. “Sure.”
“You and me…” His cheeks hollow slightly, as if he’s biting the inside of his mouth. “It was just a…random thing? There were no, uh, feelings in play, right?”
I hesitate. “No feelings in play,” I confirm.
Lawson nods. “Yeah. Okay.” Regret flashes across his face. “We could’ve been friends. I’m sorry I fucked that up.”
Then he disappears through the double doors, which swing shut behind him.
He’s right. We could have been friends. I forcibly push the sad notion out of my head and finally, blessedly, make use of the ladies’ room.
When I come out a minute later, I bump into Lucas, who’s exiting the men’s room directly across from the ladies’.
“Fancy meeting you here.” Those dimples pop out.
“Fancy,” I agree.
Laughing, we converge in the center of the hall. Technically, Lucas came to the dance with us, driving to Ballard with Fenn and RJ, while I drove over with Sloane, but I’ve barely seen him since we got here.
“How was your mission?” I tease. “Did you make your drop?”
Lucas snorts. “Stop making it sound so…illegal.”
I tip my head in challenge. “Isn’t it, though?”
“All the information I gathered for these dudes was readily available on the internet.” He blinks innocently. “No hacking involved whatsoever.”
“Uh-huh. Suuuure.” I reach out and tug his lapel in accusation. “I can’t believe I’m friends with a criminal.”
“Casey, sweetie, you’re friends with many criminals,” Lucas answers with a laugh.
I can’t help but join in. He has a point. All the guys at Sandover have committed one infraction or another.
“I guess if I had to pick favorites of all the criminals I know, you’d be in the top three,” I say generously. I reach out to fix his boutonniere, which is a bit crooked.
“Thanks,” he says.
“This is cute,” I tell him, touching the boutonniere. My fingertips sweep over the soft petals of the rose, a shade of hot pink that—
“I can give you a ride.”
My fingers freeze. I stare at the pink rose, my throat going arid as a rush of déjà vu washes over me.
“Are you sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course not. I’m ready to go anyway. I’m starting to get a headache, I don’t know why. I’ve been staying hydrated.”
“Okay, cool. I’ll be quick,” Lucas promises. “I just need to drop this off for Gabe and then we can head home.”
Horror slices into me, rendering me speechless for a moment.
“Casey?” Lucas says in concern. “You okay?”
I edge away from him. Breathing hard, I press my back against the cool metal lockers that practically sizzle on contact with my suddenly flushed skin.
“It was you,” I say.
More memories surface, playing through my jumbled mind.
“Casey, wake up! What the hell did you take!”
His dark eyes flicker uneasily. “What are you talking about?”
“It was you,” I repeat. “You’re the one who drove us into the lake.”
CHAPTER 49
CASEY
EVEN IF I DIDN’T HAVE A CLEAR MENTAL IMAGE OF LUCAS SLIDING behind the wheel of the car, of me buckling my seat belt in the passenger seat, the panic that fills his eyes is enough of a confirmation.
“It was you,” I say for the third time.
Those three words dominate my vocabulary now, as my brain struggles to make sense of why Lucas would do this.