Kiss and Break Up (Magnolia Cove, #1)(4)

“I guess, yeah.” I wasn’t lying. I knew he was protective of me in his own weird, asshole-ish way, but I wasn’t sure it happened as much as Daphne was implying.

Daphne and Willa shared similar smiles as Daphne murmured, “Well, I guess they are, or at least Byron is, done giving a crap what Dash Thane thinks.”





After they left, I cleaned up and took my unopened album to my room.

This non-date thing was confusing. Maybe Byron did just want to hang with me, and maybe that was okay. Or maybe not. Was hang code for something? I made a mental note to ask Daphne about it later.

I would’ve screamed at the sight of the body splayed over my bed, the combat boots and leather jacket in a heap on the floor, but it was too common an occurrence to startle me.

“You’re not bald.”

I smirked, dodging last night’s pajamas on my bedroom floor. “Never said I was.”

“You never said you weren’t either.” Dash set down the book he’d brought with him and pulled his thick, black framed reading glasses off.

I put the album on my desk, then traipsed over to the bed and crawled over his legs, clad in their usual black denim, to sit against the wall by the window he’d crawled through.

“It would’ve looked good on you.”

I raised a brow at him. “Shut up.”

He chewed on the arm of his glasses, narrowing his sea blue eyes on my face. “You look different.”

Yawning, I mumbled, “Haircut, remember?”

His golden blond hair was perfectly coiffed, pushed back one too many times and therefore permanently styled to stay off his face.

That hair, his angular cheekbones, and the dimple that appeared when he smirked had many foolish girls looking past his vulgar actions and nasty vocabulary, intent on trying to tame the untamable.

“Who would’ve thought getting that metal off your teeth would make you so brave?”

“Don’t even start.”

“Oh, I haven’t.” He sat up on his elbows and let his gaze travel over me. “I liked your long hair.”

“And I like being able to walk into my bedroom naked after a shower, but I haven’t been able to do that for years.”

He didn’t even crack a smile. “I’ve seen you naked.”

“Before I had boobs, Dash.” I picked at the chipped pink polish on my nails.

“I wouldn’t give a shit.”

That deep, velvet-singed voice and those words grated. “I would.”

He hung his glasses from the V of his white shirt. “What’s eating at you?”

“Nothing.” I coughed, realizing too late I’d managed to mess up saying one word.

“My, my,” he drawled. “You’re turning as pink as that ugly ass polish on your nails.”

I said nothing and went to climb off the bed. Maybe if I got the vacuum out, he’d take that as his cue to leave. Though he never had before. Dash came and went when he wanted, living on no one else’s timeline but his own.

“If you’re done with the insults for today …”

“Sit down.”

“What?” I almost yelled.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me back down onto the bed. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday. Speak.”

“Speak?” An incredulous laugh burst free. “I’m not a freaking dog.”

A thick brow rose. “I didn’t say you were. But I feel I do need to encourage you to use your words, which is fucking frustrating to say the least.”

“Let’s play Blitz.”

“Fuck Blitz.”

Oh, shit. If that couldn’t even sway his attention, then there’d be no swaying at all.

I slouched, shoving his feet away. “I ran into Byron from school yesterday after getting my hair done.”

“In the physical sense? Elaborate.”

“At the newsstand. He, um …” I blew out a breath that pushed some of my rogue curls aside. “He asked me to go to Wade’s party this weekend.”

Silence blanketed the room; the buzzing insects outside the only sound.

I looked over at Dash, my stomach flip flopping. We didn’t talk about boys. Ever. There usually wasn’t any need. Any crushes I’d had, I kept to myself or told Willa and Daphne.

“How sweet,” he finally said, tone mocking. “And are you going to go to this party?”

“I’m considering it,” I admitted, relieved he’d finally said something. “Daphne and Willa might come too.”

“Good. They might be able to keep the filthy animal from trying to get into your pants.”

Shocked, I swallowed a hard inhalation. “Filthy animal?”

Dash sat up, his white shirt shifting over his tanned stomach, flashing a glimpse of the dark hair above his jeans. I looked away. Whenever I caught myself looking at him, a creeping feeling a lot like shame washed over me. Not only was he not my type—because he was horrible—but he was also like a brother to me.

“Woods only wants one thing from you, Freckles. He’s on the rebound. So don’t get too ahead of yourself.”

My shoulders slumped, and I bit my lip to curb the disappointment I felt threading inside.

“Let’s play.” Dash switched my small TV on, then the Xbox, and returned to his spot on the bed, tossing me the second controller.