Page 51 of Crease Collision

“Then enjoy the aggression silently.”

He snorts and goes back to his work. A minute later, his voice is softer. “You know, you don’t have to talk. But if you’re trying not to think, you’re doing a shitty job.”

“Thanks, Dr. Phil.”

I turn the page on my tablet. Still no idea what the author is talking about.

“Anytime.”

He leaves me alone after that, which is merciful yet somehow worse. I look out the window until clouds turn everything below us into a white tundra.

A clean slate.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

We arrive at the hotel in Dallas around one-thirty. The guys invite me to lunch, but I use a headache as an excuse not to go. It isn’t a complete lie. I had one last night and this morning. It burned off somewhere over Tennessee, and I don’t want it coming back.

I order a cheat meal from room service. Double cheeseburger, double fries, a side of broccoli so I can say I ate something healthy, and a chocolate shake because fuck everything. And who can forget the apple pie with ice cream?

Oskar’s fried chicken proved that treating myself occasionally is a positive.

Now even my lunch is about him.

I’m halfway through the pie when my phone buzzes. It’s probably Nico making sure I’m not dead. But as soon as I see the name, my stomach clenches.

OSKAR: We are in Chicago, and the schedule says you are in Dallas. I hope you are having fun. We need to talk again because we were both tired last night. I will get back to New York late on Monday night. When will you be there?

I read it twice, then move to the bed and put the phone face-down beside me. I’m so determined not to think about it that I fall asleep.

Someone pounding on my door brings me around, and I pull a pillow over my head. The knocking gets louder, coming in two different rhythms. Apparently, I’m being raided by a percussion section. I glance at the clock, shocked to see that hours have gone by.

Fuck me. I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and curse all the way to the door. Jace and Theo freeze with their fists in midair.

“What the hell is going on?” I ask.

“Sup, Kai?” Jace asks. He wouldn’t sound any different if we ran into each other on a neighborhood stroll.

“How’s the noggin?” Theo asks.

I do my best to fight off a smile. “It was better before you fuckers tried to break down the goddamn door.”

Jace pushes inside, and Theo follows.

“Wanted to see how you’re doing,” Jace says, dropping into a chair by the window. “You’ve been weird since last night.”

“Not weird. Tired.”

Theo, leaning against the dresser, shakes his head. “You were yelling at me about soap.”

“It smelled like shit.”

“Didn’t you use it?”

“I always bring my own bodywash.”

“You would.”

Jace points between us. “See? Weird.”