“Well, tell his girlfriend to unwrap herself from him then,” she ordered, and my eyes flared. “His friends here seem . . . intense.” She smirked at Jared, obviously teasing him, but my chest had gone and plummeted all over again.
What the fuck?
Jax came up to the girl and took the phone she offered. “Madoc, it’s Jax,” he said in a serious tone. “I’m at your house. Tate and I want confirmation you’re not drunk, high, or suicidal. Jared’s here, but he could care less. We’ll meet you after your game, or I’ll give Tate a crowbar and set her to work on your car.”
He hung up and tossed the phone back to the girl with the abnormally raised eyebrows.
I spun around and headed down the walkway, taking a right on the sidewalk.
To hell with this.
What a stupid idea. Why did I come here?
“Fallon, wait!” Tate called behind me, but I dug into the pavement harder, quickening my steps.
She grabbed my arm and tried to turn me around, but I kept going.
“Where are you going?” she shouted.
“Back to Chicago! He’s fine. Screwing around as usual.”
The late-morning breeze rustled the leaves overhead and blew my hair into my face as I walked.
Damn him. I couldn’t believe this. I actually came thinking he was hurt or in trouble.
“Fallon.” Tate jogged right in front of me and blocked my way. “I’m confused. What’s going on?”
“He’s fine!” I pointed out, holding out my palm in the air. “Obviously! You were stupid to worry. I told you.”
He’s on a soccer team. No. He’s on the Notre Dame soccer team. And he has a girlfriend! Who has her pretty little preppy self wrapped around him right at this moment.
I’m so stupid.
I veered around Tate and kept walking.
“Stop!” she growled in a deep voice. “How are you going to get back home?”
My steps slowed, and I looked around the neighborhood, searching my brain.
Yeah, I forgot that part. I wasn’t walking back to Chicago.
“Fallon, what’s with you and Madoc?” Tate came around to face me again, her arms crossed over her chest. “Is there something going on between you two?”
“Please.” I tried to laugh it off, but it came out like a croak.
Smooth, Fallon.
“There is, isn’t there?” She smiled knowingly. “That’s what all that commotion was about when you took off with his car that night. And you’re the reason he split so early in the summer.”
I averted my eyes, checking out the super-interesting cracks in the sidewalk. Tate was a friend now. A good friend. And I couldn’t lie to her.
But I couldn’t bring myself to talk about it, either.
“Oh, my God!” she blurted out, obviously taking my silence as a confirmation. “Seriously?”
“Oh, shut up.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and pursed her lips. “So is it hot?” she prompted.
I rolled my eyes, avoiding the question.
The voice in my dreams crept back into my head. “Sit on the car. . . . Spread your legs.”
Tate must’ve seen the longing in my eyes, because she burst out, “I knew it!”
“Yeah, well,” I jumped in, “it’s not true love, Tate.”
For him, anyway.