We didn’t often sit around sharing our feelings so that in itself made this a slightly uncomfortable discussion. The four of us knew each other well enough that words weren’t necessary.
But sometimes they were.
Grayson reclined in the booth, his legs stretching out underneath the table, kicking me in the process. I kicked him back, nudging his legs out of my space. His lips twitched. “We haven’t really had a chance to settle into our lives at college.”
“No shit. Sterling has made that difficult,” I grumbled, shoving the last bit of crust into my mouth.
After a few more rounds of beers, the bartender called for the last round. We were the only ones left. I drained the last of my glass and shuffled out of the booth. The alcohol hit as I stood up, or maybe it was the lack of sleep. Either way, my head spun for a heartbeat or two, and I swayed on my feet, my hand steadying on the back of a barstool.
Fynn appeared at my side. “Give me the key. I’ll drive us back to the dorm.” He held out his hand.
I dropped the fob into his open palm. “I fucked up, man.”
He didn’t need me to elaborate on which fuckup I referred to. “Nah, Mads loves you. She’ll forgive you for being a dumbass.”
Steadier now that my head had stopped spinning, I sauntered to the exit, Fynn beside me and Brock and Grayson behind. “I’m not so sure. Not this time.” Before, we’d been young, and a part of me had loved chasing her and riling her up. The sarcastic banter between us had become our thing. But this time, I didn’t think being snarky and cute would win her over.
Fynn held the door. “If you’re that worried, then what are you waiting for? Call her. Text her. Send her some damn flowers.”
“Mads hates flowers,” I moped.
“The point is to make things better and apologize,” Fynn clarified. “She’d better off staying with you than at the dorms. They all would be.”
I snorted. “Would you want to live with four girls?”
Fynn grinned, unlocking the Hummer’s doors. “Did you just hear yourself? Micah Bradford snubbed his nose at the chance of living in the same house with four girls. I swear to God, a year ago, you would have jumped at the chance.”
I opened the passenger door and hauled my ass into the seat. He was right. A year ago, all I’d given a shit about was how many girls I could bang just so I could forget about the one I couldn’t. Now I finally had the girl I wanted, and I resorted right back to my old habits. “Maybe I need to get laid.”
Starting the engine, Fynn glanced over at me. “If you do that, not only will I kick your ass, but Grayson will want in too.”
“Fuck,” I breathed. “Never date anyone related to your friends. It just complicates the shit out of everything.”
“That’s the problem with never trusting anyone. Our circle is too damn small.”
I dropped my head to the back of the seat. “Can you imagine if you started dating Kenna? Grayson would literally lose his shit.”
Fynn shifted in the driver’s seat, his eyes on the road. “No chance of that happening.”
Was that regret in his tone? I’d been joking. I always joked. I studied him for a moment, and Fynn looked uncomfortable, like I’d hit a sore spot. He bit the inside of his cheek, hollowing out the sharp lines of his jaw. “Holy shit. Please don’t tell me you have a thing for Kenna.”
“Fine. I don’t have a thing for Kenna,” he quickly said. “Not that it’s any of your business, but we’re talking about your love life, not mine.”
“What love life?” I groaned. “As far as I know, you’re not seeing anyone. Not even casually. No hookups, and you haven’t looked twice at a girl here. Is there something you’re not sharing?”
The Hummer cruised down the road, Fynn handling the truck like he drove it every day. “Despite popular belief, I don’t share everything with you.”
His cynical tone rolled right off me like a bead of water on a waxy leaf. “Bullshit.”
“How about we stick to your drama?”
“So you’re admitting there is something.”
“For fuck’s sake, Micah, how many ways do I have to—” Fynn slammed his foot on the brake, the Hummer jolting to a jerking stop that had my chest restrained by the seat belt. “What the—”
I braced against the dash as the tires squealed to halt, peering out the front windshield. “Mads?” I murmured, blinking, unable to believe what I was seeing. How much had I drunk? It couldn’t possibly be Mads running around this time of night, could it? She wouldn’t. Not with what happened with Sterling.
But she wasn’t alone.