Page 49

“You’re fucked if you don’t take this seriously. But I think you will.”

I mean, Christian’s right. It's just weed, but my probation officer will probably drug test me the second I walk in.

“What do you want me to do?” I ask, setting the blunt aside.

He glances at me in surprise before quickly focusing back on the road. “Salem managed to get us a gig. Taylor and I. It's in San Francisco on Friday.”

“Okay? And?”

“And, motherfucker,” he grits, knuckles tightening on the wheel, “my sister's quinceañera is Saturday. That's when we'll be coming back.”

My head tilts curiously. “I didn't know you were religious.”

“Not really. My mom was raised that way, but she never forced anything on us. As long as we weren't off being evil little shits, that's all that mattered.”

Wow. What would it have been like to be raised by a parent who didn’t breathe scripture down your neck twenty-four hours a day? Must have been a fucking dream come true.

I sit there for a hot minute, waiting for him to explain further. Exhaustion pulls at my nerves when he says nothing else. “The fuck does this have to do with me, Christian? Need a date or something?”

“You're a fucking asshole, man.” He swings us into his driveway, slamming the Bronco into park. “My mom will bury me if I'm late, but even more so if I don't bring the cake. It's like, super important, but I won't have time to grab it on my way back.”

“Still wondering how a cake concerns me.”

“If I fuck this up, my mom will never let me hear the end of it, my sister will cry, and then I’ll feel like the worst brother on the planet. So I need it brought on time. Like, before I get there.”

Silence settles around us as I let his words sink in. “And you… want me to do it?”

Christian doesn’t even look at me when he lights the blunt for himself. “You know where my mom’s house is. I just need you to show up with it.”

My chest pinches painfully, and I cross my arms to alleviate the ache. “I'm not crashing your sister’s birthday uninvited, man. That's fucked up.”

“You crashed Matty's bachelor party uninvited. Ruined it, too, remember?”

“Yeah, because I was—” I cut myself off, scrubbing a hand down my face. The words ‘because I was high’ threaten to spill out, but I physically bite them back. “I'm not doing that. Just explain shit to your mom, I'm sure she'll understand.”

Christian leans forward, hazel eyes glittering as he blows smoke in my face. The smell of vodka on his breath burns my nostrils. “You act like you have a choice. You owe me, remember? Payback's a bitch.”

“Yeah, but I'm not yours,” I growl, undoing my seatbelt before throwing open the door. “Find someone else.”

“I wasn't done talking to you, asshole!”

Flipping him off over my shoulder, I storm up the porch steps and into the apartment. The door slams shut behind me. Logan jumps from his spot at the kitchen counter, where Owen is currently perched. Both of them look guilty, cheeks flushed and lips swollen like they were just sucking face. For some reason, it only pisses me off even more.

Christian damn near kicks the door in as he follows me inside. “Either do this for me or get the hell out of my apartment!”

“I don’t have to do shit,” I shout back, yanking my adopted brother away from his boyfriend. “Logan lives here too, and he says I can stay.”

“What the fuck is happening?” Logan looks between us in a panic.

“Christian's drunk and thinks he owns me.”

“Arnie sure did,” the asshole snaps.

I flinch, the words hitting me like a fucking baseball bat to the ribs.

He must see it in the way I freeze, because something flashes across his face, but it’s gone in the blink of an eye.

“Guys.” Logan steps away from me, putting himself between us. “Let's just calm down for a sec.”