I wrinkle my nose. “Who’s Chrissy?”
“Jade’s friend, clearly.”
I glance up at him. “Who’s Jade?”
He blinks at me. “I have zero clue.”
I hand back the phone, taking small comfort in the fact that he never responded to the message. “I can’t believe girls send you texts like that. Have you thought about changing your number?”
“I have, but it’s such a hassle.” Tucking his phone away, he gets to his feet, reaching over me to grab his notebook off his desk. “For now, I just block them.”
“Seems like a lot of work,” I mutter, still trying to wrap my head around the full extent of his fan club as he gets ready to recite his speech.
We go back and forth for the next hour, rehearsing and exchanging notes. Each time I practice, I become more comfortable in front of Wes, and the words come easier. We’ve just finished our third round when there’s a tap against the door.
"Yeah?" Wes calls.
The door swings open, revealing Kaden standing in the doorway. He holds up his phone and points to the screen. “We’re ordering pizza. You guys want in?”
“Fuck yes,” says Wes. “I didn’t notice how hungry I was until you said that.” He looks at me. “Are you hungry?”
I check in with my stomach, realizing how empty it is. “Very.”
“Excellent. Anything you don’t like?”
"No, I’ll eat anything on pizza.”
He grins, looking almost proud. “That’s my girl. How about a large veggie, a meat, a Hawaiian, and a Deluxe? Oh, and that cheesy pepperoni bread. Oh, and an order of wings. Buffalo. Blue cheeseandranch.”
Kaden, who doesn’t appear at all concerned by this amount of food, types the order into his phone. “Anything for the birthday boy.”
“How’s Ben doing?” Wes asks.
Kaden snorts. “He says the pizza will either heal him or end him. I don’t envy his current state.” Kaden looks at me. “Ever had a Jägerbomb?” I shake my head. “Keep it that way.”
Wes nods gravely and says, “It’s true. No one’s ever said, ‘man, that Jägerbomb was an awesome idea. I’m really glad we did that.’ Not a single person.”
Kaden snickers, still entering our order into his phone. When he’s done, he glances up and says, “I’ll call you when it’s here.”
“Thanks, K.”
“You ordered so much food,” I say, as soon as the door shuts.
Wes pats his stomach with a grin. “Growing boy.”
“Sure," I say, amused. “I hope Ben is okay. That sounded bad.”
“He has difficulty regulating sometimes. He’ll be fine, though. Have you ever been hungover before?”
I wince at the question. “Oh, yeah.”
When Wes’s brows raise, I know immediately that it was the wrong thing to say. “That was a pretty visceral response. I think I need to hear this story.”
Panic flares inside me. “Oh, no. Forget I said anything.”
“Come on, Ives. I’m sure it’s not that bad. Everyone’s been there. Here, I’ll tell you my worst hangover story.”
“You don’t?—”
