Breathless #2 (The Breathless Romance Series - Book #2) Read Free

have stuck with just calling Johnny a player. If he really was,
and if she had any proof of it, wouldn’t she have given me a list of names of
different girls he had slept with? I frowned in thought as I stared at the TV,
unable to work it out. If she was just trying to get some competition out of
the way, why would she pick on the story of a girl who committed suicide? Why
would she imply that I would follow in Claire White’s footsteps, just for
having dated Johnny? It didn’t make any sense at all. I wondered if Claire had
somehow had something to do with Johnny romantically. If she had killed herself
over the fact that he was cheating on her. That would make the story make the
most sense—though I thought to myself wryly that if Johnny ever cheated on me,
if we got to the point where we were that serious, I would kick him out of my
life, rather than take my own.
    My fingers itched to pick up my phone, to text Johnny
again. But I told myself firmly that all that would accomplish would be to make
me look like a crazy, unhinged person who assumed she was in a serious
relationship with someone she’d slept with once. And here I thought that relationships in college would be so much
simpler than high school. It was only two weeks into my first semester in
college, and I was already having trouble focusing in class. I had spent the
first week of classes distracted by the possibility that Johnny was into me,
and now—unless I got some kind of control over myself—I was going to end up
spending the second week of classes just as distracted, but this time with
doubt instead of interest.
    Just as I was reaching the point where I was getting
tired of my own stupid brain, my phone vibrated against my leg, my ringtone
cutting through the sound of the TV. I jumped, my hand fumbling for the phone,
and nearly dropped it onto the floor trying to turn it over to look at the
screen. I half-expected a call from my mom, or from one of my friends—and I
irritably thought that maybe Georgia had told someone about my moping and this
would be a concern-call from one of my dorm-mates. Instead, I saw Johnny’s name
and number flashing, and I immediately tapped “accept.”
    “Hey babe!” I said right away, trying to keep my
relief out of my voice. Over the phone I could hear the sound of dozens of
guys—shouting, laughing, and joking— even if I couldn’t make out any specifics
of what they were saying. If they were anything like most guys, I thought, I
probably wouldn’t want to know what they were talking and joking about.
    “Becky! I’m so glad I got you—I thought you might be
at dinner.” I could barely hear Johnny’s voice over the yelling and laughing
going on around him and I wondered where he was specifically; was he in a
locker room somewhere, or on the bus? I shrugged it off. I couldn’t bring
myself to mention the rude upperclassman girl or even what she had told me; it
was still too raw, and I knew better than to try and touch on a serious topic
like that when he was clearly among his friends and teammates.
    “Nah, I’m vegging out in the dorm,” I said, smiling to
myself. I wished that he was talking to me in person; I wished I knew where he
was, what he was doing, whether he had actually gotten my text or if he was
just calling me because he wanted to call me.
    “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Johnny said—I
caught his words only barely. “I was hoping that if I got your voice mail, you
didn’t have the stupid automatic version, and I could hear your voice.” I
laughed in spite of myself.
    “You’re crazy—I wouldn’t miss a call from you for the
world,” I told him.
    “I wish I could hear you better—these guys are a hot
mess, you know?” I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me. “I can’t wait
to see you again, Becky.” Someone on the other end of the line—not Johnny—made
some kind of joke about him being whipped and I rolled my eyes. I heard the
meaty sound of