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“Thank Liam.” He chuckled, rolling the bike into the garage. It even had a little woven basket attached to the front.

“Riiiight.” I nodded.

Ollie leaned the bike against the wall and headed back to his van. “I’ve gotta go, but I’m sure we’ll see you soon.”

“Mhm, bye.” I waved as he got in the car.

I headed inside and straight to the kitchen for a snack. Liam had already disappeared, which didn’t surprise me at all.

I made my sandwich and carried it upstairs to the room I was staying in. I figured the less he saw of me the better. And it wasn’t like I wanted to be around him anyway.

Right?

Liam

Ari had been living with me for two weeks, and in that two weeks she’d woken up screaming every single night.

She usually found me in the kitchen, just like that first night, but I never said anything, and she didn’t either. I think she hoped I didn’t hear her night terrors, but in her gut she knew I had to, and that’s why she didn’t say anything.

Standing by the glass door leading into my backyard, I watched as workers hustled around getting set up for the Fourth of July party.

It would be the second year I held the party at my house.

In past years, I’d always celebrated the holiday with my family at the Wentworth Mansion.

Once I left Virginia, though, I hadn’t wanted to go back.

I knew my parents and extended family would be upset that I was missing yet another holiday, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Willow, my cousin who was more like my unofficial little sister, had already called me five times today. First, to beg me to jump on a plane and get my ass there even if I was late, and when that didn’t work, she just bitched at me. I let her, because I deserved her anger. I hadn’t been too nice to her when she showed up a month ago. My behavior had been unacceptable considering how close we’d always been.

But Willow, she didn’t know how hard it was for me.

Yes, her dad was in the same band as mine, but he’d never faced the same ridicule as my father had and in turn me. My dad was the so-called bad boy of the band Willow Creek, which in the media’s eyes automatically made me bad.

But that wasn’t all there was to the story.

There was always more, and that’s why you should never judge a book by its cover.

“What’s going on?”

I turned away from the window at the sound of Ari’s voice. She stood a few feet behind me in a pair of tiny cotton shorts and a loose shirt that fell off one shoulder exposing the smooth slope of it and golden glow of her skin. On her feet were a pair of fuzzy pink socks. Her dark hair was pulled away from her face in a ponytail, but a few stray pieces fell forward to frame her face.

I knew I was staring, checking her out without saying a word, but I couldn’t help it.

I was a guy, and Ari was hot.

That didn’t mean I was going there, though.

I didn’t have time for the baggage of a relationship. Not then, and maybe not ever. I’d been burned once, and I had no desire to head back into the fiery pit of the dating world.

Clearing my throat, I finally answered, “Party. It’s the Fourth of July.”

Her lips parted, forming a perfect O shape.

“I didn’t realize.” She shook her head. “I don’t work today, but I’ll stay in my room and out of your way.”

I winced. I hadn’t been the nicest to Ari. In an effort to distance myself I’d been a downright asshole. It wasn’t much different than my usual persona, but the poor girl did have to live with me.

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