More Than Each Other (More Than Best Friends Book 2) Read online

  “Eww.” Haylee's nose and lips curl. “He is so disgusting.”

  My stomach curdles. No one has ever talked to me like that before. Even though it’s too noisy in the hall for most to hear him, all the chatter will be that I’m the Harem King’s new toy. “You know where his information came from.”

  “She's been weaving her black magic,” Haylee whispers as we walk into class.

  Stacey sits through the lesson wearing a smirk the whole time. She hasn’t said one word to me. She doesn’t have to. I already know Paul’s actions were her doing. Who knows what’s in store for me next.

  Tobi and I carry our plates to our usual table at lunch. Side-glances and hushed words find me all the way through the lunchroom. “Is it me or is everyone staring at me and whispering?”

  “Not everyone. I’m not staring at you.” She bumps my arm with her elbow.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Tobi snickers and sits next to me. “It’s not that bad.”

  Haylee and Cameron join us. He hasn’t looked at me all day. Cam’s mad at me. I’m sure of it. Ever since Tobi’s party, he’s hardly spoken to me. I look down and fork a bite of my salad.

  “Hey, Cam,” Tobi says, “where were you yesterday? We missed you on the field trip.”

  Cameron’s hunched over his food across from me.

  Haylee looks at Cam, chewing a bite of her lasagna.

  His eyes are dull, almost sad. “I had family stuff.”

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  His lip twitches, and he looks at me without the humor I’m used to seeing from him. “Lots of rumors going around about you.”

  “Cam,” Haylee scolds him.

  “Are they true?” He glances at her and takes another bite, awaiting my reply.

  Tobi laughs out. “When did you start believing that garbage?”

  He shrugs. “I’m not saying I do.”

  He’s not saying he doesn’t believe it either. I don’t know what I’ve done to him, but the fact that he might think the gossip is true hurts. I sniff and give him the reply he’s waiting for. “Which rumors? I’m sure I haven’t even heard them all.”

  He grimaces and washes down his food with a slug of water.

  “Geesh, Cam.” Tobi tosses her fork on her plate and shakes her head. “You’re such a jerk sometimes.”

  I sit and wait for him to finish. Haylee’s staring down at her food looking all kinds of annoyed and uncomfortable.

  Cam meets my eyes and asks his question in a hushed voice, “Did you? And Lane?” His brow raises. He didn’t finish the question, but I know what he’s asking. It’s part of why we’re all friends. We all plan to wait until we’re married before sex. We don’t really talk about it, though.

  Until now.

  I lean forward and let the blade of his judgement slice between my ribs. “No. And I’m more than a little disappointed you would believe any of the lies Stacey tells.”

  The muscles of his jaw flex.

  “What else?” I ask. “You’ve been mad at me since Tobi’s party. Why?” My voice is even, and I want to get this all out because I need my friends right now.

  He puffs out a breath through his nose, glancing away, rubbing his palms on his jeans before he turns back to me. The coloring of his face reddens, and I’m not sure if he’s ticked off or embarrassed. “I thought we were friends and you decide to hide what’s going on with you and Lane just to save face?”

  I swallow my shame and answer, “I should’ve told you guys, but I knew you’d be mad at me.” I blow out a breath, looking at the black swirls in the sticky tabletop. “It’s not much of an excuse. I’m sorry.” Keeping this from Haylee and Cam was one of the dumbest brilliant ideas I’ve ever had.

  Cam lets out an irritated chuckle. “Yeah, well I’m more pissed you tried to hide it.”

  “Oh, come on you two.” Tobi grabs our arms and shakes them. “We’re one big happy family.”

  Haylee snickers and leans into Cam.

  He grins, and the hardness from his eyes fade.

  I raise my eyebrows and reach across the table with my hand extended toward him. “Truce?”

  He grasps my hand and shakes it, squeezing too hard on purpose. The annoying Cameron I know and love returns.

  He’s right, though. I was more concerned about my friends being mad at me for breaking the rules than I was about lying to them. Everyone is going to know I was in Lane’s dorm room, but the truth of why I was there will never see the light of day. Gossips aren’t interested in the truth.

  7

  Lane

  The workout after speech helped distract me until Tobi sent me a message about Frak’s move on Regan today. That guy is such a slime-ball. If he thinks he’s going to get away with it, he’s got another thing coming.

  Now I’m staring at my laptop screen waiting for inspiration. My head rests back against the wall, and I search the white ceiling tiles of Booth Library for the possible reasons for the banking crisis during Andrew Jackson’s presidency.

  My dorm room is full of Regan memories from yesterday and I thought I’d be able to escape here, but I ran into the same problem. I had to just pick a spot on the floor and push myself to work on my paper. The words are forced but I finish and complete everything due tomorrow.

  When I push through the double doors of the library hall, the spot where Regan kissed me draws my attention. She was the one who kissed me. It was awesome. I push through the heavy outside doors with a grin the size of Texas plastered on my face and, make my way to the dorm. Any other night I’d probably be eating right about now. Since Regan left yesterday, I haven’t had much of an appetite. The VIP tour was great, but now I have to deal with the memories of Regan all over campus reminding me she’s still in high school.

  I mumble the words and rehearse my speech to Regan’s parents.

  Mr. and Mrs. Stone, Regan’s been my best friend for a long time. When I couldn’t keep other guys from going after her I decided I was gonna have to step up to the plate. Our first kiss sealed the deal. And every little kiss since only makes me want to kiss her more.

  I chuckle to myself. Yeah, Mr. Stone wouldn’t appreciate this version. My lungs breathe in the cool night air, and I hope the fresh oxygen clears my head a little. Dad better know what he’s talking about with his advice. If Regan had a cell phone, I could text her my speech and see what she thinks. I could talk to her and calm my thoughts—get my fix. I can’t stop thinking about her.

  My phone dings while I wait for the elevator in the lobby of my dorm. I pull it out of my back pocket and check it.

  Ross: Where are you?

  Me: Downstairs.

  Ross: Get up here.

  Me: Waiting on elevator.

  The elevator stops on my floor, and I step out and head down the hallway. Ross opens the door of our suite as I stick my key in to unlock it. Paint vapors rush past me.

  “Dude, grab your guitar. You’re coming with us,” he says in a rush. His guitar case is on the floor between our bedrooms.

  Luke steps into view from the spot where the sofa used to be.

  I nod to Luke and take a look around. The walls are no longer manic white. I’ve only been gone a couple of hours. “You painted?” I wrinkle my nose at the paint cologne hanging in the air.

  His brows raise. “Duh. I told you I couldn’t take the white anymore. It was too depressing.”

  I step in and closed the door. “Are you allowed to do that?”

  He reaches for my arm. “Don’t rub against the wall. It might not be dry yet.”

  I open the door to my bedroom. “Why do I need my guitar?”

  “You want to practice with us tonight?”

  Me? Practicing with the band? Heck yeah! Bonus, it’s the first thought that has nothing to do with Regan all day. “Serious?”

  Ross nods. “Yeah. It would be good practice for you, and we could use a back-up voice tonight.”

  The stress hanging over me about my speech to Regan’s
parents is quickly forgotten. “Absolutely! Let me grab my stuff.” I zip my case shut and follow the guys out the door.

  This is un-freaking-believable. I’ve always wanted to do something like this, but no one I knew had any interest in learning to play guitar or getting a band together.

  Luke drives us to a building they share with some other bands, renting time slots for practice. It’s dark, and I don’t really know my way around all of Charleston but can tell by the large factories, we’re in the industrial area.

  We park and I bust out of Luke’s old Chevy Yukon and notice Joe and Jayce’s vehicles parked next to the sidewalk.

  Ross bales out too, complaining, “Luke, man, you’ve got to quit eating in your truck. It reeks of stale fast food and mold.”

  I open the back to get our stuff out. “He’s right, Luke, I couldn’t breathe through my nose on the way here.”

  Luke chuckles, shaking his blond head back and forth. “Yeah, I need to clean that thing out.” He’s a quiet guy, but he can sing. Ross claims he can play anything on the piano.

  Rock crunches under our feet as we cross the lot to the entrance of the building. Lights line the soffit of the roof overhang, casting security down the brick and metal siding.

  Ross calls back over his shoulder, “They have private parties here.” He continues to chatter about the owners and the other bands that practice here while we get set up.

  The rest of the Music Mutts seem happy I’m there and it doesn’t take long for us to get in sync. I’ve hung out with the guys at the dorm and around campus, but I’ve never played or sang with anyone but Ross.

  A steady stream of endorphins run through me the rest of the night.

  It’s magic.

  Regan’s going to flip when I tell her about it.

  8

  Regan

  Tobi drives me home from school, and I’m able to give her the low down about Mr. Kellen giving Stacey and me the cold shoulder today without the prying ears in the locker room. Between Paul’s move this morning and the way Cam acted at lunch, I’m ready to escape it all. Friday night can’t get here soon enough.

  As I open the door to my house, the wonderful aroma of Italian Beef swirls into my nostrils. My mouth waters. The hunger pangs remind me I didn’t eat much for lunch.

  Mom has her sewing machine on the table working on the same fabric she had out last night.

  “Mom, that smells so good.”

  She smiles and stops what she's doing, “How was your day?”

  I sigh and shake my head, dropping my backpack by the door to hang my coat up. Despite knowing Stacey isn’t done spreading lies about yesterday, I’m relieved to have my status with Lane out in the open. At least with Mom. Come Friday, it won’t be an issue anymore.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks.

  “Nothing,” I groan. “It's just Stacey being her usual self.” Mom has no idea how vile she is. I’m done thinking about Stacey for the day. I change the subject to the sparkly fabric she’s working with. “Who's dress?”

  Mom smirks. “Stacey's homecoming dress.”

  I let out a bitter laugh. How ironic is it that my mom's working on the dress of the girl who’s trying to destroy me? “It's a pretty color.”

  “It's a beautiful design. I'm surprised she trusted me with it. I think they usually buy at some fancy shop in Chicago.”

  “Chicago?” Chicago’s like five hours away. Why would anyone drive five hours to buy a homecoming dress?

  “Mrs. Faniger said they usually take the train up once a month to go shopping but have been too busy lately. They decided to try custom and thought they would see if I could ‘produce quality work.’” She winks.

  I roll my eyes. My mom's the best dressmaker around. “Do you need help with supper?” I should help her more in the kitchen. Cooking isn't that bad. I sort of like it.

  “No, but we’ll be eating as soon as your dad gets home. He’s been up since three this morning.”

  “Okay.” I snatch up my bag and grab a water bottle on my way to my room. “I have a paper to work on.” The paper’s not due until Monday, but if I get it done tonight, my weekend will be free to spend with Lane.

  Mom asks, “How's your back?”

  I turn back from the hallway. “It’s okay. A little tender, but fine other than that.” She tightens her lips in a line.

  When she goes back to working, my muscles loosen. I was afraid she was going to bring up how I shouldn’t have been in Lane’s dorm room. She wasn’t very happy about it last night.

  Dad comes in the house about thirty minutes later, grumbling. For the past couple weeks, he's been working a lot of overtime. Going in early or staying late. He's probably tired, but when he gets home, he usually doesn't rest after supper. No, he goes right back outside to work around the yard. It only makes him more tired.

  We sit down to eat dinner together. Dad's quiet. Dinner time is usually when he likes the family to catch up with each other. His silence sticks out like a sore thumb tonight. Come to think of it, he hasn't looked at me since he came inside to wash up.

  “Is everything all right, Tim?” Mom asks.

  Dad puts his fork and knife down and finishes chewing. “I'm hearing from people at work Regan skipped out on a field trip yesterday.”

  My body tenses. The food I’m trying to swallow has expanded in my throat and doesn't want to go down. I swallow again. There's still a lump. So, I try to push it down by gulping half a glass of water, hoping I don't choke in the meantime.

  That fork tongued viper. I should’ve known Stacey was going to try to get to my dad. She basically threatened me when I got on the bus yesterday. I'm 99.99% sure these people Dad is referring to can be traced back to words viper-girl has strategically placed. And as gossip goes, multiplied—exponentially.

  “Oh, that's not true,” Mom defends in a dismissive tone.

  Dad gives her a look of doubt but seems to soften a bit. He turns his eyes to me. “What did you think of the science department?”

  I shrug.

  Dad’s gray eyes burn into me. “And what does that mean?”

  Okay, okay. Sound normal. You were there. You didn’t really skip out. “It was okay, as expected, I guess. Nothing state-of -the-art.”

  Dad resumes eating his food. “There was nothing that interested you?”

  I tilt my head and keep my gaze on my food. “Not really.”

  “Did you talk to any of the company reps there who hire science majors?”

  Uh-oh. Tobi mentioned that part, but I didn't see any companies when we went through the tour with Lane. I shake my head and push my food around my plate.

  “Regan, did you ditch the science department?” A hint of temper weaves itself through Dad's words.

  “Tim,” Mom warns him. “Regan went on the field trip. She had an accident at a coffee house and burned her back. She didn't ditch.” The pitch of Mom's voice rises along with the volume. “Honestly, I don't know why you listen to that garbage at work.”

  His eyes narrow. “How did you burn your back?”

  “Show him your back, Regan.” I stand, turn around, and raise my shirt up so Dad can see the red splotches on the upper two-thirds of my back.

  I sit back down as Mom finishes explaining what happened.

  When she's done, I add, “Lane gave us a tour of the science department.” If I point out something positive—something I liked about the campus, maybe there’s hope for avoiding the argument that's building. “I was able to go through the biology lab and then Lane showed me around campus. The library is really nice.” I take a bite of food. Not because I'm hungry anymore, but as a distraction to the conversation.

  “So.” Dad throws his napkin on his plate. “You ditched after you got there? With Lane?” His tone is icy.

  The food in my stomach hardens into rocks. I can’t seem to look him in the eye. I take another bite of my food and it makes my stomach feel worse. “I didn’t ditch. Lane showed me the whole campus instead of
just the science department.”

  His eyes narrow. “I heard Lane skipped class, too. What else did you two do?”

  Oh, crap! My chest tightens. Did Stacey spread the lie I had sex with Lane? Does dad think I—? Oh, my gosh! Please, no—no. You are too close to the tipping point of disaster. Stay calm.

  “So, when we got there, uh, Lane surprised me and gave me a tour.” I glance at him but don’t dare get sucked into his vortex. “We had to write a paper about the science department. That was the only requirement for the trip” I don't want to lie. This isn’t a lie.

  I’m terrible at lying anyway and can’t believe they never found out I snuck off to an EIU football game. That day was so great. Tobi’s parents were so laid-back about it. Shawni even let us use her car. I wish my parents were more like them. Lane’s dad is laid back too. I don’t know how he and my dad are such good friends.

  Dad leans back against his chair. His shoulders loosen a bit. “If you didn't find the science department interesting, I assume you’re finally considering a different path. Teaching maybe?”

  “I'm definitely thinking marine science. Eastern doesn't have a good program.”. As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, I know I should have said something else. Lied. But every time he goes there about my career, my ticket out of here, I have this reaction to shove it all in his face. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut? Things were starting to calm back down.

  Stone-faced, Dad glares at me. His eye twitches and the storm is about to hit the dinner table. Mom begins to speak, but Dad cuts her off.

  “I've been telling you for months to find another option. And that is exactly what I mean.”

  He sniffs and puffs out a breath. “Marine science is a waste of your time and my money.”

  That does it. “What money?” I throw my head back and scoff. “I'm the one who is going to have to find grants and scholarships to pay for college.” I press my finger to my chest. “I'm the one who is going to have to take out loans and work while I'm going to school. You don't have the money to pay for it. So why do you care how much it costs?”