Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) Read Free Page B

heads up.”
    She smiles weakly and nods her understanding. “Well, have a nice weekend, Mr. Davis.”
    “By the way, please call me Shane. Mr. Davis is my father.” I offer a grin.
    Her eyes dart around as if she’s deciding what to do and then she nods quickly. “Okay, Shane. Well, have a nice weekend.” She adjusts her bag, turns and leaves.
    Swiping the screen, I read the message from Eric insisting that I meet him before the game for a few drinks.I breathe slowly and roll my neck, working out the kink forming at the base from the anxiety I feel creeping in. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
    When the stammering of my heart finally subsides, I grab the pen and Post-It note that has Dana’s number and print, in big block letters, “STAY AWAY FROM DANA!” I chuckle softly as I crinkle up the small paper and toss it into the wastebasket for a three pointer. I swivel around in the chair with my arms raised high above my head in victory.

 
     
    Remy
     
    WHO THE HELL does he think he is? I poured a cup of coffee and served him a damn blueberry muffin. I hate guys like him. You know, the gorgeous, country club ones with their rich daddy’s money, coming in here, looking all Abercrombie & Fitch with that dirty blond hair and those beautiful blue eyes. I don’t need to watch him throw his money around while the rest of us bust our asses to make ends meet. It makes me sick.
    “That was rude.” Jenna says as she clears away the dish, wiping in small circles to clean the counter that Mr. Abercrombie & Fitch just vacated.
    “What?” I hiss. “He gave me a fifteen dollar tip, Jenna.” Disgust drips from my mouth.
    “So what? It’s not like you haven’t gotten big tips before,” she smirks and widens her eyes knowingly.
    “Shut up!” I whisper and roll my eyes playfully because I know she’s right. “But, this is different. He is…”
    “A nice guy?” she finishes the sentence for me even though it’s not what I was going to say. Nice guys aren’t assholes who throw money around or stare at people they don’t even know.
    “No!” I shriek. “Intense. I was going to say intense. I don’t know- there’s just something about him that pisses me off. Did you see how he was glaring at me like he wanted to rip my head off?”
    “Sorry. I didn’t notice, but he can stare at me any day. In fact, he can stare at the back of my head as he drills me from behind.”
    “Jenna!” I snort with disdain. “Is that all you ever think about?”
    My best friend simply shrugs her shoulders and laughs. “Stop drinking the hatorade.”
    I untie the small black apron and toss it into my backpack after cashing out for the day. “Dammit.” I glance at the clock, realizing that my chit chat with Jenna has made me run late. “I’ve got to get to class.”
    “Be careful out there, girl.” Lenny says with a smile.
    “Call me later. My class ends at eight.” Jenna yells as I rush by and wheel my bike out through the back door, scaring away the small rodents from their late morning snack.
    I weave in and out of traffic on the busy streets of Boston, my legs pedaling hard and fast. I hate being late. It’s irresponsible and when as a child you need to be the responsible one, there is no other option. The vehicles honking at me are ignored until a yellow cab pulls up alongside me, telling me to move my ass or I deserve to get hit. I offer a mock smile, raise my hand and give him the universal sign for “fuck off” as I arrive at my destination.
    My bike is secured to the metal bar, and I hope this one doesn’t get stolen like its predecessor. Why someone stole that bike was just plain ludicrous! It wasn’t anything special; it was a used ten-speed men’s bike that I picked up from a junkie who was willing to trade it for money. He wanted thirty, but I haggled him down to twenty.
    “Hey, Remy,” I turn to the source of my name being called and see Simon walking in my direction. “What’s going on?” He musses my