When Chelsea sent me a thumbs up emoji after practice, I knew things were already in motion. On to phase two of the plan.
“Yo.”
Blinking up at Trey, I noticed where his eyes fell to. Pressing my hand to my neck sub-consciously, I muttered back, “What’s up?”
“A lot of hickeys, bro.”
“I’ve been busy.” It was only a half-joke. I was, in fact, staying busy with Phil lately.
“Bite marks too,” he hedged, narrowing his eyes.
I was shaking out my hair, hoping to just avoid whatever questions he had when he pushed, "That girl--the one from this summer--what does she look like?"
Oh.
"Why?" I wondered, quirking a brow.
"Just curious."
I frowned at him, taking in his serious expression and said, "Uh, blonde. Brown eyes. Short."
"Can she cook
