Chapter 34

I drop my pen and stare at the phone.

Why is Dylancalling me? He’s never called me. I have his number only because Frankie killed his phone by spilling margaritas all over it on a particularly wild night out a couple years back and used Dylan’s phone to call and tell me about it.

I stare at the thing for so long, the ringing stops, but before I have time to decide whether to call him back, it rings again. This time, I answer. “Dylan. Is something wrong?”

“Why does anything have to be wrong for me to call you?”

“When did you evercall me?”

He coughs and clears his throat. “Oh, yeah, I see what you mean.”

“What’s up?”

Dylan clears his throat again. “I need you to speak to Franklin for me.”

“Why?” I frown.

“Because he won’t talk to me. He hardly returns my calls or even texts anymore. I’m five fucking seconds from setting up camp outside your apartment until he agrees to talk to me.”

Sighing, I rub my eyes. “Don’t be such a drama queen. You’re not camping on our doorstep.”