Page 9 of The Time It Takes
He only narrowed his eyes at me.
I continued, “It’s okay, we all have our guilty pleasures.” I shrugged, biting into my pizza.
“Stop looking at me like that Dean. If you want it, come and get it. I dare you,” Phoebe taunted—putting her hair up with one of my scrunchies. When had she grabbed that?
Oliver mumbled something under his breath that I couldn’t catch, but Taylor and Ben must have understood it perfectly because they barked out a laugh.
Dean let out a long sigh. “Yeah, not going there.” He leaned back, resting his ankle over his knee.
“Scared Dylan will kick your ass?” Taylor laughed, taking a sip of his beer.
“I think he is,” I answered for him.
Dean glared at me before snatching the pizza out of my hand and taking a bite of it and then dropping it back on the plate. “Is that a yes?” I asked, unfazed.
He ignored me. “Speaking of him. WhereisMr. Right?” Dean asked Phoebe, though there was something in his tone I couldn’t place.
She covered her mouth as she finished chewing. “He’s hanging out with Tucker tonight. They’re at Surfer.”
“One—he has a fake? and two—he’s at a bar without you?” Ben asked, totally unaware of the all too noticeable look Phoebe shot me, which caused both Dean and Taylor to look at me curiously. I didn’t look at Oliver, but I could feel him studying me too.
I held in my annoyance. “Don’t look at me like that.” My words were muffled due to a mouth full of pizza.
“Did I miss something?” Dean asked.
“No,” I said quickly.
“Who’s Tucker?” I heard Oliver ask as he looked around at everyone curiously.
I sank back into the couch. “No one interesting.”
Phoebe scoffed. It was taking everything in me not to go over there and strangle her.
“Is it that kid that plays football? Your age? The one you said flirts with every girl he meets?” Ben asked, his question arriving in a sparse of curiosity. I was surprised he knew that. Someone’s been eavesdropping on my phone calls.
I focused my attention on the movie. “Mhmm,” I hummed.
“Tucker is a flirt, yes, but he’s crushing on her, and she won’t go out with him,” Phoebe said to everyone.
“Good,” is all Ben said to that.
I inclined my head at him and smiled. “Thanks, bub.” Then I looked at Phoebe who had her brows furrowed. “Besides, he doesn’t know anything about me. He’s crushing on some idea of me he’s made up in his head. We’ve at the most exchanged two words with each other.”
“Because you won’t give him a chance to know anything!”
“Dude has probably had one too many concussions,” Taylor added.
I nodded in agreement.
“I’ve seen him play. He's pretty good,” Dean commented.
I put my plate of crust on the coffee table as I chewed on a mouthful of pizza. I knew I must look ridiculous when Oliver leaned over and tapped his knuckle under my chin. “Just show him this side of you and he might back off.”
I knocked his hand away with a sharp glare.
“Is it working for you?” Dean mumbled under his breath. Oliver shot him a look that caused him to throw both of his hands up in defense.
I worked on a swallow, deciding not to unpack that as I grabbed Oliver’s beer to wash it down my throat. I handed it back to him and wiped my mouth.
