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"You think I'm here for my health?" He drops his backpack in his suite. Shakes his head kids today.
Brendon nods yeah, he's right.
They're only a few years older than Dean and I are—we're all in our twenties—but they act like they're old sages.
I look to him. "You coming or not?"
"You should," Kaylee jumps in. "I'll be fine."
He arches a brow. "You sure?"
"Yeah." She smooths her pink dress. Adjusts her blue glasses. "I have to change for work soon. Just lock this for me?" She taps her laptop.
He nods.
Dean shakes his head as he returns to the main room—now clad in basketball shorts and a muscle tank. "Mr. Brooding is joining us?"
"Yeah." What the fuck is Dean's problem? Brendon joins us on hikes all the time. Ryan too. Hell, Leighton, Emma, and Kaylee join last minute all the time. He's never had a problem before.
"Leave for your shit or get to work," Ryan calls.
He has a point. I pack up my shit.
Dean does the same.
Brendon finishes with his customer then whispers something to his girlfriend.
The bell rings.
Iris steps through the door, tight black shorts clinging to her hips, loose blue tank hanging off her shoulders.
All the bullshit at
the shop fades away.
I want her against the wall.
My hands under that tank top.
Those shorts at her knees.
The rest of the world gone.
No worrying about my best friend's attitude. Or my sister destroying herself. Or how the fuck I'll get my parents to help when they're textbook enablers.
Dean steps out of his suite. "Iris, right?"
"Yeah." She offers her hand.
He shakes. "I guess you're coming with us."
"Walker invited me. Is that okay?" She bites her lip. "He promised I wasn't imposing. If I am—"
"Nah. The more the merrier. Brendon's coming too." Dean smiles wide. He sells it. To her.
I know better.
I know his bullshit too well.
