“It better not.”
He kissed me swiftly, and then he was gone.
Sighing, I turned onto my side and faced Ava, who was looking back at me. “You did the drunk emotional feelings thing,” she said with a heavy sigh.
“I did.” I nodded as I placed my hands under my head.
“You’re not so scary after all,” she muttered.
“Not even a little bit,” I agreed.
“Still weird.”
“You’re weirder.”
We fell asleep grinning at each other like idiots.
Chapter 24: Quinn
Why did I drink all the wine? Wine was evil. Wine took up residence in your head and plagued you for days.
Nursing my coffee, I glared at Ava, who was bright-eyed, bushy-freaking-tailed, and full of the joys of life. Did Jett really love her, or would he forgive me if I accidentally stabbed her cheery little face?
“You thinking about stabbing me?” Ava asked me shrewdly.
“How did you guess?” I asked her, a little startled that I had been so transparent.
“Mia looks at me the same way,” she told me with a grin. “I can’t help it, I don’t get hangovers. Well, I’ve only ever hadonehangover.”
“Pretend,” I groused as I stood and made my way to the coffee pot. “Good friends pretend.”
“Okay,” she groaned theatrically, and it was so loud I reconsidered strangling her.
“Go away, go find Jett, distract him,” I ordered her as I took my mug and opened the back door. I needed fresh air.
“Will I send Gray over?” Ava asked as she happily bounded past me.
“No, he’s probably still sleeping.”
Ava hesitated and then happily rushed off to the Santo house to see Jett. I welcomed the peace as I closed my eyes and tilted my head up to the cloudy sky. I think I dozed, because I startled when a cool hand removed the coffee mug from my hand. Opening my eyes, I stared into light blue ones, and I smiled as I reached out for him.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Hangover?”
“So bad,” I admitted as Gray lifted me out of my seat and then sat down with me in his lap.
“Your hand’s never going to heal,” I told him as I curled up into his chest.
“The splint works wonders, and I think I’m resigned to knowing we won’t win the championship, so I have the time to heal.”
“You’ve written the team off because you can’t play?” I asked him incredulously.
“Nah, not just me. Ash and Jett missed practice, Jett’s hurt his shoulder, Coach is going to have to play Kowoski, we have ’Bama again soon. Our focus has slipped.”
“That’s my fault.”
He tightened his grip on me, and I took the comfort he offered. “No, it isn’t. We were already distracted, but it was our choice to find who did this to you.”
