Free Edge of Chaos (Love on the Edge #1) by Molly E. Lee Page B

You sold it to get your truck back.”
    “But I wouldn’t have had to do that if I hadn’t just bought you those Blue October tickets.”
    My heart sank. I stood there, floundering in my own guilt for a few moments, contemplating pulling out all the extra cash I had and shoving it into his hands. Then I saw the games he held and the guilt turned to a burning anger. “No. I don’t buy that, Justin. You could’ve easily sold your collection of video games and Xbox to get your truck back. Hell, you could’ve sold that big-ass TV, too, or even asked me then to borrow money. But you didn’t. You made the choice, so don’t you dare put something like that on me.”
    His eyes popped before narrowing. I saw the shock. It’d been too long since I’d called him on his bullshit. He stomped off without saying a word to contradict me.
    Normally I would’ve followed him and given him the money just to avoid the fight, and being left behind without a ride—which he’d done to me twice in the past.
    Not today. I grabbed my cell phone again.
    Can you pick me up at the bookstore in the mall? I shot Dash another text, my fingers shaking with adrenaline. Justin blew up all the time, but today it struck a new chord, like a tap to a freshly exposed nerve.
    Of course. I know a great Mexican place a block away from there. See you in ten.

    An hour and a half later, I set my napkin on my half-cleaned plate and leaned back in food defeat.
    Dash sat across from me and shoveled another chip with a heaping pile of salsa on it into his mouth. The restaurant smelled of peppers and fried chips, and the food, of course, had been delicious.
    “Did he say anything when you left?” Dash asked after taking a gulp of iced tea.
    “I didn’t wait around to hear it this time,” I said, still shocked I’d walked away from Justin in the video game store. I’d told him I found another ride home and just . . . left. Never, in our entire relationship, had I had the nerve to do that. I glanced across the table at Dash, knowing our friendship contributed to my new boldness.
    “Good job. That was a jerk move, even by guy standards.”
    “Thank you.” I sighed, the relief of being understood was so intense it was almost unnerving. I hadn’t been able to unload my fights with Justin on anyone before—Mom, the only other person I really talked to, didn’t care for him and would never hear me out.
    “Does he do that a lot?”
    “What? Act like he’s doing something for me and then I realize it’s really about him? Or ask me for money?” I fiddled with the sugar packets on the table.
    “Both.”
    I brought my gaze back to him.
    He leaned back in his seat and shook his head. “Can’t help you there. Lindsay has got more money than she knows what to do with.”
    “It’s all right. You help just by listening. Sorry I talk your ear off all the time,” I said. How much personal history had we covered in the past week? Nearly all of it, I realized. Talking to Dash was just so easy. He listened and actually tuned in, like no one else existed outside of our conversation. A stab of jealousy hit me, thinking this is how he must treat Lindsay all the time.
    “I enjoy it. Honestly, who else could keep up with me about storms and Blue October? And that’s not even mentioning our similar taste in movies.”
    “You’ve got a point,” I said. Yesterday we’d had an hour-long conversation about why The Departed deserved to be in the top ten best movies of all time list. And then a thought that hadn’t occurred to me popped into my head. “Do you talk to Lindsay about us?”
    His eyes widened.
    “That came out wrong.” My cheeks flushed. “I meant, does she get upset about the time you spend with me?” I rubbed my hands together underneath the table, wondering if he had to hide our friendship as well.
    “No. We’re friends and we have nearly the same career plans; of course we’re going to spend time together.” Dash nodded at the waitress at