Meant to Crash | ✓

Chapter Thirty

After the movie, we piled back into the car to meet up with Nigel at a local pizza place. It was our usual spot, a location that made fusion Indian and Italian creations. We were devouring a spicy pizza, sharing it among the four of us.

At some point, and when we were midway eating, Layla had her tongue down Nigel's throat.

With Nigel's hand creeping more and more under the table, it was becoming clear that Layla wasn't coming home with us today.

"I want my fifty."

This was Akin speaking, talking so boldly that it caused the kissing couple to stop. Momentarily, that is. One split second, and they were at it again. Layla started devouring Nigel's bottom lip before he could make out a response. For that reason, I spoke.

"A fifty for what?"

"For this relationship happening."

"Please don't tell me you put a bet on them too?" I groaned. "You need a hobby."

"You were a part of this one doofus."

My milkshake was getting liquidity, and lumpy, losing its once frosty feeling. I prodded at it with my straw as I talked. "I don't think we bet on this."

"I could've sworn we did."

"I would've remembered losing fifty bucks that easily." I snorted. "I am picky with what I place my bets on – especially if it's you I'm up against."

"You're picky about a lot of things. Including the men you want to spend your time with. Which makes me twice as shocking, and a tad bit offended, that you'd hide your rendezvous with the hottest bachelor in San Francisco."

"What do you mean? You know about the party I—"

He flashed his screen at me, handing me his phone eventually when I said I didn't see what he was seeing.

Looking closely, I saw the image I was most dreading to come across. It was Sebastian and I outside the beach house. In that brief, swift moment, they captured my silly face scrunching up in the ugliest way possible.

It was hysterical really, picking that picture of all that was taken that night. This had to be the one they were running with?

I wanted to burry my head in the sand and declare my new identity in a different nation. While I began brainstorming possible aliases, Nigel took the phone from me and showed Layla what had me going pale under the diner lights.

"When was this?" Akin pressed.

"It was the same night we all went to the club. You were there," I assured him, dumping a French fry in my milkshake to somehow symbolize my own desire to drown. I hated 21 questions and I didn't want to be grilled by Akin.

"Find something more scandalous," I proclaimed, munching down on my soggy, limp fry. It was sad how I couldn't express my real feelings to my friends.

We were so close literally, but so far apart emotionally when it came to how safe I felt with disclosing the obvious with them.

That wasn't healthy.

I had to break this wall of tension I was sure that was only being constructed, guarded, and maintained because of me. The wall had to come down.

"I have a thing for Sebastian," I blurted. "But I think there's something he's hiding from me. Something that could be stopping us from being together...it's just eating him alive. I don't know what it is, but there's been two instances now where I can sense something off."

"Something off?" Layla echoed. "Like what?"

"I don't know what, but he doesn't come off as genuine."

"He is your boss. He has a right to keep some things from you. It is a breach of some contract I'm sure you signed."

"We are way pass that, Layla. I'm planning on having this guys kids."

"Ohmigod, you're kidding." Akin slapped my arm.

"Of course I am, you weirdo. I wasn't serious," I rolled my eyes. "I only said that because I knew that would get you all hyped up and excited. You two have been fantasizing my marriage before I even thought about it."

"Isn't that what best friends are suppose to do?"

We laughed, but part of me was forcing the act. I hated how much my own honesty felt polluted. My stomach was twisting at the thought of meeting the Lockhart family so much that it didn't allow me to relax with my friends. What were they going to think of me? Were they going to hate me? Would I end up being fired by the end of the night? I didn't want that to happen, but the questions and paranoia didn't stop there.

"I think I'm going to go back home for a bit," I announced, "Do you guys wanna come with me?"

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a/n: short chapter - but I think I'm updating again tomorrow with a much longer one - promise

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