“Is he really your twin?” Meghan asks, handing the giant quilted bag to Cass, who plops it onto my bed and unzips it.
“All my life, unfortunately.”
“He’s a cutie.”
I snort.
Cass rifles through the overnight bag, pulling out a long tee-shirt, terrycloth shorts, a clean towel, and a toiletry bag. Cass sighs in relief. “Thank you, Meghan. I could use a shower.”
Meghan gives me the once-over and asks, “How’s the head and stuff?”
I reply with, “Meh, I’ll be fine.”
Cass disappears into the bathroom that we share with the next suite.
Meghan narrows her eyes at me, and her demeanor changes quickly. She speaks a mile a minute, and her eyes are fierce. “Good, listen to me closely because that girl showers fast, and we don’t have the time. I’m sorry you got hurt, but you’d better not be milking it just to play on her emotions and keep her here all weekend. I’ve already been through that with Leela and Crosby, and… let’s say I’m overprotective of my sisters. Our Cass is a sweet, pure, innocent soul who must be protected at all costs, and I will flay a boy open if I think he’s fucking with her. Or playing games with her. Or so much as sending one mixed signal. Got it?”
As I said earlier, these sisters? Are a lot. Much luck to her future husband, and I make a mental note to keep Herc far away from her.
“Got it. But listen. You don’t have to worry. Cass and I go way, way back. And honestly, I’ve been trying to get her to leave for hours, but she insists on babysitting me. That’s the situation.”
Meghan eyeballs me again and nods curtly. “Fine. But when you’re feeling better? I’m the one who’ll be watching you.” And just like that, she turns on a brilliant smile. “Hope you feel better!”
She’s gone before I can process what just happened.
That woman might be intense, but her words stir me up.
I would never hurt Cass. That’s just always been a constant fact. It’s simple. She’s the one for me, and no sorority boss babe will intimidate me.
I have to make her believe that I’m okay. She can’t be thinking that I’m saying these things due to a head injury. That won’t get me anywhere.
SEVEN
Cassandra
“Don’t be silly,”I say when I come out of the shower to find Titus talking crazy, insisting that he’s fine and that I can go. “Who will make sure that you don’t fall asleep?”
I hope he doesn’t offer suggestions other than me, like that girl down the hall. She gave us the eye when I was helping Titus to his room this morning. Or last night. Honestly, I don’t remember when we arrived back from the hospital.
He doesn’t. And I’m grateful.
“No one but my Squeaks,” he sighs.
My Squeaks.Does the man know what that kind of talk does to me? How much it makes my heart soar with hope, followed by disappointment? He’s saying it like a big brother. Very different from the sexy tone he’d used earlier when he’d been delusional.
“So!” I say, plopping down on the edge of his bed, “What should we do now? Wanna play Name Five Things?”
“Oh my god, Squeaks.”
“What?”
He cackles, giving me a knowing look.
I know what he’s thinking.
“Oh no. Don’t,” I groan.
I can’t believe he’s bringing that up.