“You’re my only friend, you know that?” He stands, trips over his own feet, but manages to get into bed. He falls back with a huff.
“You have tons of friends, Cash.” I sit on the opposite side.
“No—nope. None. People use me, then drop me after they get what they want.” He rolls onto his side with a small, sad sound.
Oh God, please don’t puke.
“You’re not going to do that, right, Sum?” He looks up at me with glassy eyes and a pouty lip.
“Never.”
“We’ll be best friends forever.” He nods continuously until he’s really just smushing his head into the pillow.
“Yep, we will.” I lean back against the headboard, arms crossed, resigned to the fact that he’s sleeping in here. There’s noway I’m getting him back to his room, and I’m not leaving him alone in this state anyway.
“Oh, I almost forgot—” He yawns. “I fixed everything.”
My brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
“We don’t have to pretend anymore.” He blinks, pure joy flashing across his face. “Idon’t have to pretend anymore.”
He jolts up, scrambling for his phone. He finds it in his pocket and holds it at arm’s length, squinting, trying to unlock it with clumsy thumbs. It takes a few attempts before he gets to his messages.
I grab it from his hands.
“Hey!” His whole face scrunches, like a toddler having a temper tantrum.
“Let’s not be sending any messages we’re going to regret in the morning. Friends don’t let each other send drunk texts.”
“Aww.” Cash flops back onto my bed, this time on his belly. “I think I’m gonna really like this whole friends thing. Want to get smoothies in the morning?”
“Sure, but you might prefer a bacon, egg, and cheese by then.”
“Yeah.” His eyes droop, then close. “You’re a good friend, Sum.”
I grin down at him. “So are you, Cash.”
“You should give me a nickname.”
“I’ll get right on it.” I slip under the blanket. I would cover him, but there’s no way he’s moving enough to make that possible. I’m shocked he’s still conscious. “Hey, what did you mean about fixing everything?”
He hums drowsily. “Fixed everything,” he mumbles.
“… But how?”
“I kissed someone.”
Okay, now I’m really confused. “This isn’t a Sleeping Beauty situation… You can’t kiss your way out of an NDA.”
“Oh, yeah, you can.” He giggles, high-pitched and ridiculous.
“You wanna explain?”
“Tomorrow.” He hums again. “I’ll tell you all about the prince… Love you. Night, night.”
Less than a minute later, he’s snoring softly.
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I’m jolted awake by banging on my door, then shouting. “Cash! Summer! Open this goddamned door.”
