He chuckles. “They could be, but I don’t know. Jackson probably wouldn’t touch her, if he knows how much she means to Caleb.”
“Does she really mean something to Caleb?” I ask, my eyebrows shooting up.
“I think so, though he’d never admit it. Did you see the way he was just acting?” Without warning Tony jumps to his feet, holding out his hand so he can pull me up. “Let’s go to my room.”
The nerves come back, twisting my stomach into tight knots as we walk up the stairs and head for his room. He wants to talk to me. And I have no clue what it’s about. He’s acting perfectly normal, but I can tell he’s preoccupied. Something’s bugging him.
Looks like I’m about to find out.
He shuts the door and locks us inside as usual, and then he’s reaching for me. Pulling me into his arms. Kissing me ferociously. We fall onto the bed, our bodies and our tongues tangled. His hands are in my hair and mine are beneath his T-shirt, touching his abs—one of my favorite parts of him.
What am I saying? I like all parts of him.
“We need to talk,” he pants against my lips at one point.
I push him off me, hating how easily his kisses, his touch made me forget he wanted to discuss something with me. “What is it?”
I also hate how breathless I sound. I clear my throat and turn away from him, righting my clothes, sitting up and smoothing my hair out of my face. I want to appear composed if he’s about to drop a bomb on me.
Though I don’t know why I’m automatically thinking the worst. Maybe because nothing good comes from someone telling you, “We need to talk”?
And that’s the truth.
A sigh escapes him and he sits up as well, his thigh pressing against mine. If he wanted to break up with me, he wouldn’t be sitting so close.
Wait a minute. We’re not together, so there’s nothing to “break up.” I’m clearly being ridiculous.
“I got a text from my father tonight.” The words sound bitter and I frown.
“When was the last time you two talked?” They never talk. Or at least, he never talks about his father with me.
“God knows. He’s too busy and I don’t care.” More bitterness. “He invited me to Thanksgiving at their house. Told me to bring my girlfriend.”
My frown deepens. “What?”
“No name was ever mentioned. And I denied having a girlfriend.” That hurts. More than I’d ever admit. “Then he said Helena talks about my girlfriend all the time. Called her adorable.”
“What?” I’m repeating myself; I can’t help it. “I don’t talk to Helena. Ever. How would she know about us?”
“Like I said, your name wasn’t brought up, but I knew who she was referring to.” He takes a deep breath. “So I called Helena and confronted her about it.”
Damn, he has balls. I like it. “What did she say?”
“She’s pissed at me over my dad’s business and how I’m going to inherit it when she believes she deserves to.” He waves a hand, dismissing it. “But what really got me is she knows about you and I because of Lauri.”
His words hang between us, heavy and accusing. “They’re friends.”
“I know.”
“I’ve never told Lauri about us. Ever.”
“Come on, Hayden.” He blows out an irritated breath. “Just be real with me.”
Anger stiffens my spine. “I am being real with you. Are you accusing me of lying?” If he is, that is some straight up bullshit.
“Of course not.” He runs his fingers through his hair, shoving it out of his face. “I’m sorry. No, I don’t think you’re lying. But how the hell does she know about us?”
“I don’t know.” I stand and start pacing the room. “What does it matter anyway? So our parents don’t approve of us together, so what? They can’t tell us what to do. We’re not some modern-day Romeo and Juliet. This is just some quick college fling, right?”