“Go away!” I order.
There’s another soft knock at my door. Groaning, I roll over, burying my face in my pillow. If it’s Lucas again—so help me, I will chuck him off my balcony. I know the guy thinks he’s helping me, but he’s planted so many unwanted questions in my head tonight that I can’t be in the same room with him right now. Part of me doesn’t want to face the possibility that he’s right about Lauren and me.
Maybe we’re not meant to be together forever.
No! I can’t even think that right now.
The door opens, and I’m about to throw my pillow at the jerk who ignored my orders to go away, when a soft voice asks, “Jordan? Can I come in?”
I sit up.
Kassidy offers me a hopeful smile as she slips into the room, closing the door behind her. She’s carrying a container of ice cream in one hand and two spoons in the other. She holds them up. “Wanna talk?”
“Okay. Want to sit in silence and let the ice cream do the talking?” she counters, raising hopeful brows.
My head falls back against the headboard, and I cross my arms, staring at the blades of the ceiling fan as they rotate slowly in a counter-clockwise direction.
Kassidy scoots up onto the foot of my bed, placing the ice cream container between us. She offers me a spoon. I stare at it.
“This is your answer to my problems?”
“Yup.” Kassidy lifts one shoulder. “I don’t know if there’s scientific data to show the healing powers of ice cream, but trust me. It works.”
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