The Art of Taking Chances Page 15

  Regan

  I’m about to jump Lane’s case when he huffs, “What are you doing hanging all over that guy?” His hushed voice is barely under control.

  “What are you talking about?” My blood’s about to boil.

  “You’ve been throwing yourself at him all night.” Lane doesn't get riled up easily, but now he's pushing words out through clenched teeth. He’s been acting weird since graduation earlier today, but that’s no excuse.

  “I wasn't hanging on anyone.” He's out of his head. Brea was hanging all over him.

  He barks out a cynical laugh. “You were practically sitting on his lap before I pulled you off of him.”

  Oh, it's on. “I think you need to get your eyes checked. No, it’s your brain. It’s all fogged up from that fleshy little number hanging all over you.”

  Lane’s nose scrunches, causing his face to look like a shriveled prune.

  I push up on my toes and keep dishing it to him. Nose-to-nose. He’s going to get the same clenched-teeth treatment as he gave me. “You know, that girl who was shoving her boobs in your face. That fleshy little number.”

  He scoffs. “I haven't seen anyone shoving their boobs in my face.” His volume is quiet, but snarkiness practically drips off his voice. “Trust me, I’d notice if they were.”

  I stay on my toes. “Oh, I think everyone noticed.”

  “Don’t be laying your guilt on me.” Lane’s smug words hang in the air while he shifts away from me as if this is over.

  This isn’t over. I step into his space and whisper as sweetly as I can. “Brea. You know, the girl who was about to fall out of her bikini top? The girl who was in your space, trying to get your hands all over her.” I push his chest with my pointer finger. “The fleshy little number. So, you better get that giant log stuck out of your eye before you try pulling the splinter out of mine.”

  He snorts and turns toward me. We're kind of hidden on the other side of Cameron's truck, but Cam’s light bars cast enough light I see Lane's sneering face.

  “Splinter? That’s a joke. You need to worry about that guy I rescued you from. I don't know what line of crap he’s been feeding you, but you’re swallowing it hook, line, and sinker.” He touches his finger to the end of my nose. “You were all over him. And you liked it.”

  My mouth flies open. Nothing comes out. His accusation drives through my chest and wraps around my heart like a boa constrictor. “I was not—I didn’t—I can't believe you said that.”

  Lane inches closer. “He must have had some real southern charm,” his voice drips with spoiled honey.

  “We were talking about college.” I lean forward, too. “Not that it's any of your business.”

  “College?” He tosses his head back. “Ha!”

  I turn away and cross my arms over my chest, digging my fingernails into the flesh of my arms.

  Lane moves closer, breathing down the back of my neck. “The way he was checkin’ you out in that low-cut, tight fitting, sparkly shirt? Yeah, I'm sure he was thinking about academics.” His sarcasm falls from his mouth onto my shoulders, making the weight on me even heavier.

  I whirl around on my heel. “You told me this shirt was fine!” My hands clamp my hips, digging my fingers into my jeans to gain a little self-control. “At least I have a shirt on. Unlike your new friend.”

  Lane blows out a rumbly breath through his nostrils. “Even if Brea was shoving her boobs at me,”—he folds his arms tight across his chest— “what I do or don’t do, and with who, is not your concern.”

  I stumble backward a step. “That's how it is?” I calm my voice and try to gather my shattered pride. “Now that you’ve graduated, your best friend’s opinion means nothing?”

  Lane sucks in a quick breath but stops himself before he speaks. His hand runs through his hair. He repeats the action once more before turning away from me, rubbing the back of his neck. Lane whirls back around to face me. “I guarantee he has more than college on his mind.”

  “Please,” I snarl. “What's with you?” Not that I expect an answer.

  He turns it up again, laughing bitterly. “What's with you? You don't even know that guy, and you're acting like he's your best friend.”

  His words slap me across the face.

  Cameron yells something at us, but all I hear is a rumble. He runs by Lane and me, stripped to his boxers. Cam’s voice bellows through the night air, hollering all the way into the water, leaving a big splash as he sinks below the surface.

  I watch silently with my arms dangling, waiting for Cam to surface, wishing I could sink under the surface with him and wash this night away. When I see him bob in the water, I shift to leave.

  Lane latches on to my wrist.

  I jerk my arm out of his grasp and continue walking.

  Ten

  Lane

  Regan slips through my fingers, and I watch her walk away. Every step she takes, the knife inches further into my chest. This is not the way tonight was supposed to go. I can’t help it if Brea won’t stop getting up in my business. It’s not like I’m into her. Regan’s the only person I let in my business, but it’s different. She’s different.

  Grr, I never thought she’d let her guard down and break her own rules, especially for a guy she doesn’t even know. I can’t believe she’s falling for Bobby’s moves. He must have laid his “southern charm” on so thick it poisoned her.

  All my muscles coil, ready for a fight. Ready to take Bobby on. Even my hands are balled into fists. The wild pounding of my heart against my ribs pumps the energy through my body.

  Girls.

  I clasp my hands behind my head, pulling at my hair, while Regan slips between the cars and out of my sight. She’s the one that came up with her no dating rule. She’s the one who came up with the “rules of friendship.” No gossip and no backstabbing are good ones, but number three is unfair. No dating within the group? What if I really got close to Haylee or Tobi or…my shoulders fall…her?

  A frustrated growl grows behind my clenched teeth, and I whirl around to let it fly out of my mouth over the water.

  She’s so stubborn. She never gives any guy a chance. At least that’s what I thought until Bobby walked into her life tonight. Regan talking to this guy has blown everything out of the water. If she’s having such a great time with this stranger, would she agree to go out with Cam? When I leave for college, is someone else going to take my place?

  Argh! I haven’t able to stop thinking about her with some other guy all day.

  She was sitting on my blanket, on my tailgate, laughing with a guy who was not me. It’s a punch to my gut. She betrayed me. But the truth is…I’m not really hers to betray.

  I never gave any thought about leaving her to the wolves when I move for college in the fall. When guys ask me if we’re dating, I answer no, but make sure everything about me says yes so they’ll stay away from her.

  Sure, I think about what it would be like to kiss her. That’s what guys do—think about girls. A thought like that’s flashed across my mind about Tobi and Haylee before, but it’s just a thought. I don’t actually want to kiss them. But I know the curve of Regan’s lips. I’ve traced them with my eyes for a long time now.

  “Dude, did you see that hang time?” Cam sneaks up behind me, shaking the water off his body like a dog.

  I shove my hands in my pockets and glance back at him. “Yeah. Nice.”

  He snickers and takes a few steps to the towel hanging off the bed of his truck. “Where’s Regan?” He dries his body and wraps the towel around his waist.

  I look back over the water. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt this heaviness caused by a girl. I fill my lungs before I turn around. Her brother made me promise to look out for her. Can I cross that line? Can I let myself go there? Will she?

  Joey’s voice rings out from behind me. “Nice one, Cam.”

  Cam chuckles. “Yeah, thanks, man.”

  I escape and cross the patchy, grass-covered ground to find Bobb
y and make sure he hasn’t followed Regan.

  Eleven

  Regan

  Lane's stupid words swirl inside my head. None of my business.

  So what, am I just some silly high school girl now? He's dumping his best friend? Hook/Booker/Bobby—whatever his name is—stands next to Nick, talking to Stacey of all people.

  She looks over at me as I pass by and flashes her cruel grin, taking hold of his arm. She continues making her moves on him, angling her dangerous lips to his ear. Probably whispering a hypnotic chant.

  Stupid boys.

  This is one more good reason to up the ante on my rule. Instead of no boyfriends, maybe it should be a no boys. At all. Cameron and Lane were both over-the-top tonight. Coming from Cameron, yeah, I kind of expect it, but from Lane? His words about Bobby echo in my ears, and it totally ticks me off that he’s probably right about him since Bobby’s now tangled with Stacey. Bobby’s not even her type.

  This burning in my throat is more than annoying. If I could tune out all this rattling in my head, maybe the acid will go back to where it came from. I push every last ounce of breath from my lungs as I lay back in the tall chord-grass, pressing the heel of my hands to my stinging eyes.

  Crickets, please do your magic and turn this night around.

  A squeal echoes from the shoreline. When I sit up to see what’s going on, an object flies past me and thuds in the grass. Dead fish. Ugh, the stink is overpowering.

  Another fish flies through the air, landing a little closer to me. I can’t seem to get away from the drama tonight.

  That’s it, I'm walking home. It's not that far. Lane has a flashlight in his glove box, but I’m not going anywhere near his truck. I’ll see if Cam has one.

  I stand and schlep through the grass. Not even one step into my trek, something hits me in the back. “Ouch!”

  The same shrill of a voice turns to laughter.

  Did they seriously bean me with a dead fish? Why did I agree to come here? I knew this party was bad news, but I didn’t know I would end up friendless and getting pelted with rotten fish.

  My stinging eyes finally find relief when they flood. Tears spill over my lashes and down my cheeks in a steady stream. I can’t believe my Dad listened to Lane and let me come here tonight.

  Wiping my cheeks and sniffing, I move as fast as I can out of the grass. I don’t stop until I arrive at the passenger door of Cam’s truck, a few feet from where he’s standing at the hood. “Cam?”

  He turns to see who’s calling for him. ”Hey.” The smile in his voice takes a little pressure off my chest, dampening the burn. “How'd you like my cannonball?”

  I stay by the door. “Do you have a flashlight I can borrow?”

  A loud Stacey cackle fills the cool air and makes me cringe. Hook must be telling her the same line of crap that made me laugh. It sucks the breath right out of my lungs.

  Cam makes his way toward me. “Yeah, I should.” He’s sporting a beach towel around his waist.

  I step back from the passenger door so he can rummage through his stuff.

  “What do you need the—” Cam halts as soon as he opens the door and the cab light reveals I’ve been crying. He lowers himself to eye level with me, moving a finger to lift my chin and inspect my face. “What’s wrong?”

  Tears fill my eyes again. I pull away from his touch and drop my head, trying to will the floodgates to close. My fingers curl into a fist in protest. Do not cry at this stupid party!

  “Your flashlight? Please.” My voice is wobbly.

  “What’s going on?” He closes the door and waits patiently in front of me.

  But I don’t want to tell him anything. I just want to go home.

  “Where's Lane?”

  I've been trying to avoid Lane altogether. I can't watch him get together with another Johanna. And he has the nerve to accuse me of throwing myself at some guy I just met?

  “Probably off with some girl.” I try to come across as flippant, but I’m not sure it works.

  Cam frowns. “Lane?”

  I nod, swallow, breathe, repeat. “We had a fight.” My voice cracks. “And someone hit me with a dead fish.”

  “Hit you with a dead fish?” Cam tries not to laugh. He probably thinks I’m joking.

  I nod. My shoulders droop even more. I know he’s not making fun of me, but his snicker is salt in my wounds.

  Cam wraps me in his arms. “I'm sorry.”

  Any other time, I’d be pushing Cam off me, but I collapse against him and let his warmth and soft shushes calm the crazy ball of emotions exploding inside me.

  “I'll take you home if you want. Can I let my shorts dry a little more?” Cam’s voice is so soft and sweet.

  I nod.

  He rubs my back. “You want me to punch Lane for you?”

  A tiny smile barely lifts my cheeks, cracking my sadness, and I nod again against his warm chest.

  He pulls back and looks at my face. “Serious?”

  Cam’s silliness cracks my sullen mood even more. “No. I guess not.”

  His body shakes with quiet laughter, and he brings my head back to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on my back. “Too bad. I haven't been in a fight for awhile. I'm gettin’ the itch.”

  A puny giggle bubbles out of me. Cam would never start a fight with Lane. He talks a big talk, but he’s a teddy bear when it comes to his friends.

  He leans back to look at me. “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah.” I sound pitiful.

  Cam keeps his arm around me and tucks me to his side. He guides our steps to the front of his truck. We watch the idiots in the water and listen to their banter. Cam can be a super nice guy, even if he ticks me off a lot.

  “Why’d you want my flashlight? Were you gonna walk home?”

  Cam knows me better than I thought. I nod, but don’t say anything. All this turmoil is exhausting, and I just want to go home and go to sleep.

  Cam rests his head on mine, squeezing my shoulder with his hand. His tenderness lifts the weight I was under. It wasn’t that long ago Cam was being an arrogant jerk, pushing my buttons. Right now, he’s a gentle giant, exactly what I need. That’s a real friend.

  “Can I ask you something?” He keeps the quiet tender voice he’s been using. “Do you think rule number three is still a good idea?”

  My brows pinch together. That came out of left field. “Yeah,” I croak, sounding more like an amphibian than a sixteen-year-old girl.

  “We're not freshman anymore. I think we've grown up, don't you?” He looks down at me out of the corner of his eye.

  How did we go from bad Lane and dead fish to the rules of friendship?

  I shrug. Sometimes this guy makes no sense at all.

  “Give me a minute to put my clothes on.” He laughs. “That sounds naughty.” He laughs again. He’s so in your face about stuff like that. Not much of a filter, but he held back the teasing at least. “Go tell the girls I’ll be back. I'll meet you up at the fire.”

  I shake my head. “Not the fire.” I want to avoid both Lane and Hook.

  Cam tightens the towel around his waist. “Okay, where, then?”

  I keep my eyes down. “I’ll go find them and come back.”

  Cam gives me another hug, whispering over my head, “I’ll be waiting.”

  Twelve

  Regan

  Tobi and Haylee were talking to her boyfriend and his friend when I told them I was leaving.

  I rub my bare arms, hugging myself to stay warm as I trek back to Cam’s truck. Of course, I bypass the general direction of the bonfire and keep my eyes down to avoid fueling any gossip about me crying. It’s chilly and my body’s had all the drama I can take for one day.

  A shadowy pair of legs clad in jeans strides out from behind a car ahead of me and takes up my path. I veer to the right. They veer to the right. I veer to the left. They veer to the left. Keeping my head down, I glance up to see who this jerk is.

  I sigh and change direction, hoping Lan
e will just go wherever he was going. I’m too drained to fight again.

  “Regan.” His voice carries a softer tone than the harsh donkey bray it resembled earlier.

  I keep walking. Just because he doesn’t sound like a jerk at the moment doesn’t mean I want to talk to him.

  The plod of his hurried footsteps comes closer. “Regan, wait.”

  Hurt wells up inside me again. “Go back to your party.”

  I’ve almost made it to Cam’s truck. I pick up my pace and swallow down the tears and emotions, but they get lodged in my throat.

  “Stop running away from me.” He grasps my upper arm, turning me to face him.

  Running away from him? Oh, he’s really got a way with words tonight. “I’m not running from you. I’m going home.”

  I spin on my heel and continue toward my destination. The burning in my chest makes another show. I press my already balled fist against my sternum, trying and relieve the pressure.

  “Please.” Lane’s soft, pleading voice slices through my cold flesh, straight to my heart.

  I freeze to hear what he has to say to me. Cam has turned off the light bars mounted on his cab and brush guard, making it much darker out here by the water, but I see a shadow on the other side of his truck watching Lane and me. It looks like Cam.

  The titter of voices from the party hangs in the air, taking up residence with the crickets.

  Lane steps so close I think I can feel the heat from his body. “Can we talk?” His voice is barely above a whisper, but it’s crystal clear.

  My teeth grind together. Part of me wants to tell him, “No, you told me off already, I don’t want to hear it again.” Another part wants to say, “Took you long enough.” I hate it when we fight, but we’re like brother and sister. It’s bound to happen.

  While I’m having my internal debate, Lane’s fingers comb my tangles, running down my back. He’s been fascinated with my hair since we were kids. Goosebumps prickle all over my arms and down my spine, causing me to shiver.