Page 139 of Revenge Puck
“What if Aaron said something to him?”
“Like?”
“Like maybe he told Declan to stay out of his damn relationship.”
I laugh at the thought of how that conversation might have gone down. Honestly, I can picture it in my mind a little bit too clearly.
Based on the silence in the room, we’re both imagining it.
“Ooh, ooh!” Blaire blurts out, tapping her chopsticks against her container. “Picture this: Declan pulls him aside, gives him the whole big-brother speech. ‘Don’t screw this up. Don’t hurt her, blah blah blah or I’ll kill you.’”
I groan. “I would die.”
“Also!” Blaire adds with authority. “There’s the possibility that Declan thinks Aaron’s not serious?”
Yes, that sounds more accurate than all the other theories combined.
My friend waves her chopstick around through the air. “Maybe he thinks Aaron is using you as a rebound? Or leading you on?”
I replay the conversations I had with my brother, where he implied I was naïve—or not experienced enough to know what was happening in front of my face. As if I were too fragile and sweet for a guy like Aaron…
My face burns. “That has to be it.”
Blaire makes a face. “Ew. I hate that.”
“So do I.” I shove another bite of noodles into my mouth out of pure spite. “I am not some delicate woodland creature.”
“No, you are not. You’re way sexier than a woodland creature and with a way tighter ass.”
“Oh my god, stop it.”
“I’m just saying. You know exactly what you’re doing.”
Before I can fire back, there’s a knock at the door.
Three solid raps.
We freeze.
Blaire’s eyes get wide. “That was a testosterone-filled knock.”
“No,” I whisper. “That is not who we think it is.”
Another knock.
Blaire slowly swivels her head toward me. “If that is your brother, I am out of here so fast.”
My heart is pounding now. “It’s not Declan. He would text first.”
“Go get the door before he leaves!”
I set down my takeaway container.
Wipe my mouth on a napkin.
Smooth down the front of my Ice Wolves jersey.
The walk to the door feels approximately six miles long.
