“Or not,” she quips.
I can’t stop staring at Carrie, and I’m not sure why—whether it’s because I’m desperate for her to green-light someone, or if being so close to her right now is getting me excited. My gaze drifts to the bun piled high on her head. Why does she never wear her hair loose? I have no idea what she looks with it styled down. Whether it reaches her bra strap, or even lower. Shit. I’m picturing her now—back arched, blond hair tumbling down, swaying in time with the roll of her hips. I swallow hard.
“What?” she murmurs.
Should I ask…?
No. Focus, Wolinski! You seriously need to find yourself a girlfriend—and fast.
“I’m just surprised, that’s all.” I shrug. “I thought you’d want to hook me up with the first vaguely appropriate person so we could call it quits.”
“Right.” She snorts. “And then two weeks later you’d be back, feeling even shittier about yourself.”
She plucks a pickle out of her sandwich, and I swipe it before she can toss it away, popping it in my mouth, my gaze drifting across the lawn. I freeze mid-swallow. There, in the park—I recognize that face.
I wave at Cheyenne.
“Who’s that?” Carrie wants to know.
“Someone I met at Tod’s. She’s new.”
Carrie glances over my shoulder, sizing Cheyenne up as she picks her way over to us.
“Wanna join us?” I gesture at the seat across from me.
“Sure.”
She smooths her skirt over her lap and licks her lips.
“This is Carrie Wolinski.”
“Wolinski? Your sister?”
I turn my bark of laughter into a cough.
“Yup.” I elbow Carrie. “Cheyenne, meet my baby sis.”
Carrie glares at me. “Oh, so when it suits you, I’m no longer your precious little wife?”
She has one of those damn eyebrows arched and God do I want to dive into that bit with her. But we’ve got an audience, and that would be super inappropriate.
I turn my attention back to Cheyenne, who’s staring at us, clearly confused as hell.
“How’ve you been since the party?” I try.
She shrugs. “A lot of classes, assignments…”
“Fascinating,” Carrie mutters.
“What are you studying?”
“Medicine.”
My eyes drift back to Carrie, who is now scrolling on her phone. She shoots me a hostile sideways look before going back to her screen. The mood’s shifted again—she’s wrapped in that prickly little bubble of bad temper. If I didn’t know her better, I’d almost think she doesn’t like seeing me flirt with another girl in front of her. And honestly? The idea that she’d be annoyed by that… yeah, I like that. I like that a lot.
Cheyenne takes a deep breath in. Crosses her arms, uncrosses them, then leans toward me.
“Do you have plans after class?” There’s a quiver in her voice. “Maybe we could grab a coffee?”
