He’s still making heart eyes at the poor thing behind me. “Yup. I’ll definitely give her my last name. Years of happiness and fidelity.” Yeah, fucking right.
“Before the inevitable divorce,” I snort and turn to look over my shoulder, instantly spotting Bree—a.k.a. my current obsession’s adopted sister. I look around to see if it could be anyone else, but she’s standing alone, checking her phone and leaning against the wall. Her curly hair is piled up on her head, and she looks laser-focused on whatever she’s looking at.
A ping of jealousy goes through me like none other, and it has nothing to do with my friend drooling all over her.
Rhett was drawing her this morning. There’s no way that’s not who was the focus of his drawing. Every detail was the girl standing before me. Down to her cute button nose and pouty lips. And every single curl on her head.
I turn around slowly to return my gaze to Josh, who hasn’t wiped the drool from his chin. “Yeah. Good luck with that.”
Everyone around here knows Bree Moore is totally off-limits. The girl only hangs out with Rhett and Fletcher—wanting no part of any of us, just like Rhett.
Is he in love with her? Is that why he draws her? Does she love him back?
I try to shake away the sickening, hot feeling torturing me at that thought. Of course, they’re in love. They aren’t related, and they’re totally inseparable. Except for the last couple of weeks.
It’s weird to see her standing alone.
“Mark my words, she’s going to be my future wife.” I narrow my eyes at him, and he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Or my next fuck.”
“No.” I surprise myself with the growled-out answer, but I stay firm. “You’re not touching Bree. Don’t even go near her.”
Why I feel the need to protect her above all the other girls I’ve listened to my dumbass friends talk about over the year, I don’t know. She’s the last one who actually needs my help. Rhett and Fletcher pretty much have that covered.
“What?” He sounds as surprised as I am at the fierceness in my tone.
“You heard me. Leave her alone.”
He studies me cautiously, his eyes darting to her and then to me. “Oh my god.”
“What?” I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with the way he’s looking at me, as if he’s come to some big revelation.
“Bree.” He leans in closer, and I’m trying to catch up to what he thinks he knows. “She’s the one.”
“The one what?”
He waggles his eyebrows, looking so damn amused, it’s freaking me out. “The. One.” His grin widens as he looks around at no one and then back at me. “The one who has you whipped. The reason I can’t ever get you to have any fun.”
Oh Jesus. “No.”
He laughs to himself, slouching back in his chair. “Right. Why else would you give a damn if I go after her then?”
“Because she doesn’t like you.”
He chuckles. “Since when has that stopped me? You better speak up now or I’m going to make her mine.”
He says it in a joking way, but I still don’t like it. Why, I don’t exactly know. I was just having a jealous fit over the girl for having the guy I want, but still, I don’t want guys like Josh going after her. Not that she can’t hold her own. “Stay the fuck away from her.”
He only beams with a bright smile, like he’s solved some mystery. He glances back at her, shaking his head. “Damn. I knew it had to be someone pretty special, but Bree Moore . . . Holy fuck.”
“Don’t talk about her.”
What’s one more rumor? And it’s not like I flat-out lied, right?
I don’t have time to think it through any longer because my eyes are hooked on Rhett as he enters the lunchroom, his backpack thrown haphazardly over his shoulder as he talks to Fletcher, who’s at his side.
I watch as he gives a quick head nod to Bree—that’s frankly awkward as fuck—and she offers the barest of smiles back before he waves to both and leaves Fletcher to talk to Bree.
What the hell was that about?
I don’t waste any more time and jump out of my chair, leaving my friends behind and following Rhett as he heads to the courtyard outside the lunchroom. It’s fairly chilly today, but I’m fine in a long-sleeved Henley.
Rhett turns around, not seeming all that surprised at my stalker antics at this point. “Skipping lunch?”
“I had some chips. Why are you following me?”
“I wanted to ask you something.”
Surprisingly, he doesn’t tell me to fuck off and only stands there, one eyebrow raised, telling me to get on with it.
“What are you doing tonight?”
He looks suspicious now, running his hand through his tousled hair and shrugging his shoulders. “Nothing. Why?”
I grin. “Because we’re friends. I could come over.” He shakes his head and starts to head to the other side of the courtyard so he can enter the hall leading to the art room, but I catch up to him. “I’ll bring food.”
He stops and looks like he’s thinking it over. “You have a whole group of friends. I saw them.” He gestures toward the lunchroom. “Why don’t you go bug them?”
My grin only widens. “You’re more fun.” He snorts, but I’m not getting the same fuck-off vibe I usually get from him. Progress. “We can watch Netflix and eat pizza.”
“I don’t have Netflix.”
“I don’t care.”
He studies me quietly, probably trying to decide what the hell my deal is, and honestly, if he finds out, I hope he’ll tell me. I haven’t ever been this enamored with anyone in my life. Maybe I’m just bored—but something about Rhett is intriguing.
Adopted. Volunteers with kids in his free time. Hell of an artist. Probably straight.
And I can’t stop thinking about him.
“Fine.”
“What?” I’m so shocked by his answer, I have to ask again.
He gives me the smallest of smiles, his fingers digging into his thick hair. “I said fine. Eight. My place.”
“Okay.” I stand there, stunned stupid as he shakes his head, drops his hand from his hair, and walks through the door into the hall.
Holy shit.
We’re totally going to be friends.
TWELVE
I can’t believe I agreed to let him come over here. What the fuck was I thinking?
His big, dumb blue eyes make me stupid.
Maybe I’m missing Bree so damn bad, I can barely stand it. And yet, I still can’t get it together enough to face her and talk it out. She seems to be just fine with this arrangement too.
I thought my heart would shrivel up completely when I saw her in the lunchroom. Fletch wanted me to go talk to her, sit, and eat lunch like we always have, but I couldn’t do it. I can’t take another second of the polite silence or her barely being able to look me in the eye.
So, yeah. Now I’m new friends with Grayson fucking Lancaster, and it’s bizarre. I don’t even know how to explain how insanely weird it is, but the guy is under my skin. I can admit he’s been in my thoughts lately. A total enigma. The cocky jock I’ve always thought he was is somehow morphing into this guy who cares about others and used to draw so well, my favorite teacher reminisces about his time in her class. A guy who, for whatever reason, suddenly won’t leave this total loner alone.
Who I’ve caught staring at me more than once. Shit. Why can’t I get him out of my head? It makes no sense at all, but nothing much does these days.
A knock sounds on my apartment door, and I roll my eyes, climbing up from the couch. “It’s only 7:30, fuckface.” I pull open the door, wearing an amused grin on my face. But it falls when I see Bree standing there with a confused look on hers.
“Fuckface? Really?”
“Hey. Not you.” I stand in my doorway, stunned and staring at my best friend, who looks nervous to be here. Bree. Looks nervous to be at my home. That’s so fucked up.
“Hi.” Her blue eyes glance behind me, then land on my face, and I swear for a moment, my knees feel weak because it seems like forever since we’ve made eye contact.
“What are you doing here?” Shit. I hope that didn’t sound like I don’t want her here. “Not that I want you to leave or anything,” I add quickly. Jesus, fuck. I’ve never been this awkward around Bree.
She gives me a small smile, pushing a loose curl that’s escaped from her ponytail behind her ear. “Are you going to invite me in or are you waiting for the real fuckface?”
Damn, I forgot Grayson will be here in thirty minutes. Do I want Bree to know I’m hanging out with the enemy? Not particularly.
“Yeah, come in.” I move out of the way, letting her by. She walks inside, and her eyes instantly take in my place with interest before she turns back to me. “I like it. Fletch said Blair decorated.”
I laugh at that because I was right. She had a couch sent over but also dishes, a coffee table, a television, and a recliner. Not to mention new bedding, towels, and silverware. “Yeah. She did.”
“She did a great job,” Bree says with a sweet smile, and my heart pangs again. I should have just kissed her. Why can’t I just love her back that way? It would be messy but easier than this.
Wouldn’t it?