How Carrie was going to kill me.
My phone vibrates against the table.
Then again.
Then again.
I wince. Dane’s eyes flick to the sound, protective tension rising in his shoulders. He doesn’t touch the phone, but he watches it like it’s a threat.
I flip it over.
CARRIE—9 messages
Of course.
I open them.
WHERE TF ARE YOU
You alive???
You didn’t come home last night. I went to yours. Not there. PENN I AM TWO SECONDS FROM CALLING THE POLICE
Okay update: Blake looks like death. P.S., haven’t called the Popo yet, but lady, I’m 0.2 seconds away from it, I swear!!!!!!
I went to the Bar. Yes, I was a cheeky bitch.
Judging by the way he’s downing whiskey like water…he definitely knows it was you.
Also, he’s pacing like a caged lion.
Girl, WHAT happened???”
I snort under my breath.
Dane watches me. “Carrie?”
“Carrie.”
His mouth twitches with half amusement, half worry.
I text back quickly, fingers flying
I'm safe. With Dane.
Will explain later.
Promise.
Just need a bit.
Tell Blake to stay the hell away.
Three dots appear instantly.
OH MY GOD. I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT.. FINALLY, HE GREW A PAIR AND CLAIMED YOU!!!!!! THANK THE LORD….#FINEASHELL
But also…Fun police that I am…Article. Deadline today.
