Boy Crazy by Hailey Abbott Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hailey Abbott
Chase and destroy .
“I like mysteries I can solve eventually,” Trey said. His smile encouraged her to smile in return. “I think it comes from reading too much Christopher Pike when I was a kid.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up despite herself. “I loved Christopher Pike!” she cried. “I lived for the Spooksville books.”
“Me too,” Trey said. “I used to read them under my covers with a flashlight when I was supposed to be asleep.”
What was she doing ?
“Excuse me,” Cassie announced abruptly, with unnecessary formality. Because what else could she do? Looking at him wasn’t doing any good—the red Stanford sweatshirt was practically mesmerizing her at this point, managing to look cozy even as it clung to his well-formed chest. That was the only explanation for her sudden desire to talk about favorite childhood books with him. So she quickly got to her feet and went inside, where she stood on line to use the restroom even though all she did once there was glare at herself in the mirror. Christopher Pike? Really? Then she bought a coffee and went out to the other side of the boat. She wouldn’t have to worry about Trey’s tactics if she wasn’t anywhere near him, would she?
Cassie managed to avoid him the rest of the way across the water, but her luck ran out when they docked at Avalon. She’d barely disembarked when Trey fell into step beside her.
“Another beautiful California morning,” he said, sounding perfectly happy, as if she hadn’t run out in themiddle of another conversation. Maybe he wasn’t so much a player as he was just crazy.
She tried to walk faster, but it was a wasted effort. Trey easily kept pace with her, and before she knew it they were walking into Billy’s Bikes together. She figured that would end things pretty quickly. Surely he didn’t want to hang out in a bike shop all day.
Especially this bike shop. Billy celebrated their arrival by turning up the music to deafening levels and racing out from behind the counter to rock back and forth to the pounding drums.
“Terrapin Station!” he shouted above the music, curving his hands into what he had told Cassie was a particular Deadhead dance. He looked as if he were cradling a giant yet invisible ball in his arms and rocking it back and forth in midair.
Cassie brushed past Billy and turned the stereo down.
“I think the windows are about to shatter,” she told him. She pretended Trey wasn’t there. This was not an unusual way for perpetually tie-dyed Billy to begin the workday. Cassie was used to it by now. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t loony.
She was completely surprised when Trey signed up for her bike tour.
“What are you doing?” she hissed at him, after he’d handed over his money and been swept away from thecounter by a pack of noisy tourists who claimed Billy’s attention.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at her, like she wasn’t making sense.
“Why would you want to go on a bike tour?” she asked, exasperated. “You’ve been to Catalina a million times.”
“Is this the same Cassie who told me I had to see the island through her eyes?” Trey asked lightly. “And since when is a bike ride in paradise not worth doing?”
Cassie was fuming, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She had to help get the bikes ready for the tour group and pack up her emergency kit. Billy, naturally, was engrossed in a conversation with a similarly hippied-out Catalina native about “Dark Star,” which Cassie now knew was a particular Grateful Dead song. She managed to completely ignore Trey until she’d gathered the day’s tour group in front of her and was giving her usual welcome speech.
She nearly forgot her well-practiced words halfway through, because he was just watching her. Like he was trying to figure her out.
“I have extra water and a first-aid kit,” she finished. “Don’t be afraid to ask for either one if you need
“I like mysteries I can solve eventually,” Trey said. His smile encouraged her to smile in return. “I think it comes from reading too much Christopher Pike when I was a kid.”
Cassie’s eyes lit up despite herself. “I loved Christopher Pike!” she cried. “I lived for the Spooksville books.”
“Me too,” Trey said. “I used to read them under my covers with a flashlight when I was supposed to be asleep.”
What was she doing ?
“Excuse me,” Cassie announced abruptly, with unnecessary formality. Because what else could she do? Looking at him wasn’t doing any good—the red Stanford sweatshirt was practically mesmerizing her at this point, managing to look cozy even as it clung to his well-formed chest. That was the only explanation for her sudden desire to talk about favorite childhood books with him. So she quickly got to her feet and went inside, where she stood on line to use the restroom even though all she did once there was glare at herself in the mirror. Christopher Pike? Really? Then she bought a coffee and went out to the other side of the boat. She wouldn’t have to worry about Trey’s tactics if she wasn’t anywhere near him, would she?
Cassie managed to avoid him the rest of the way across the water, but her luck ran out when they docked at Avalon. She’d barely disembarked when Trey fell into step beside her.
“Another beautiful California morning,” he said, sounding perfectly happy, as if she hadn’t run out in themiddle of another conversation. Maybe he wasn’t so much a player as he was just crazy.
She tried to walk faster, but it was a wasted effort. Trey easily kept pace with her, and before she knew it they were walking into Billy’s Bikes together. She figured that would end things pretty quickly. Surely he didn’t want to hang out in a bike shop all day.
Especially this bike shop. Billy celebrated their arrival by turning up the music to deafening levels and racing out from behind the counter to rock back and forth to the pounding drums.
“Terrapin Station!” he shouted above the music, curving his hands into what he had told Cassie was a particular Deadhead dance. He looked as if he were cradling a giant yet invisible ball in his arms and rocking it back and forth in midair.
Cassie brushed past Billy and turned the stereo down.
“I think the windows are about to shatter,” she told him. She pretended Trey wasn’t there. This was not an unusual way for perpetually tie-dyed Billy to begin the workday. Cassie was used to it by now. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t loony.
She was completely surprised when Trey signed up for her bike tour.
“What are you doing?” she hissed at him, after he’d handed over his money and been swept away from thecounter by a pack of noisy tourists who claimed Billy’s attention.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at her, like she wasn’t making sense.
“Why would you want to go on a bike tour?” she asked, exasperated. “You’ve been to Catalina a million times.”
“Is this the same Cassie who told me I had to see the island through her eyes?” Trey asked lightly. “And since when is a bike ride in paradise not worth doing?”
Cassie was fuming, but she couldn’t do anything about it. She had to help get the bikes ready for the tour group and pack up her emergency kit. Billy, naturally, was engrossed in a conversation with a similarly hippied-out Catalina native about “Dark Star,” which Cassie now knew was a particular Grateful Dead song. She managed to completely ignore Trey until she’d gathered the day’s tour group in front of her and was giving her usual welcome speech.
She nearly forgot her well-practiced words halfway through, because he was just watching her. Like he was trying to figure her out.
“I have extra water and a first-aid kit,” she finished. “Don’t be afraid to ask for either one if you need