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I already know what's on her mind.
Leave it to my ex to not care about the little blow job I got at my father's wedding reception. Instead, she’s worried about the new stepsisters I just begrudgingly inherited. I could probably fuck the whole goddamn school, and Stacy wouldn't bat an eye. But tell her that I'm living with two hot as fuck sisters, and she goes bonkers.
Not my problem.
"Yo! Noah!" someone calls out my name.
I bite my inner cheek when I realize it's none other than Kyle and his steroid-aficionado besties.
He waves me over to his locker as if I'm some dog he can summon with a whistle. I have half a mind to ignore the prick, but my curiosity wins out.
"What?" I grunt the minute I reach him.
"Is that any way to greet a friend?" He laughs off.
"We're not friends. We just grew up together because this island is too goddamn small for us not to. Don't get it twisted."
I smirk when his All-American good ol' boy mask falls a smidge.
"You really have to get back with Stacy asap. You're turning into an asshole," he teases, his way of trying to do damage control.
When I stand there, stone-faced, he quickly takes the hint that he needs to explain why he called me over here.
"Look, Noah. I know we all live by the bro code and all, but would you be okay if you made an exception in my case?” he asks.
"A second ago, you told me to get back with my ex, and now you're asking for permission to date her?" I laugh.
Have it.
Stacy would fucking eat you alive and spit out your bones before you could even blink.
"Nah, man. I'm not talking about Stacy. I mean...Skylar."
His friends begin to howl at his request while my blood starts to boil in my veins.
"Dude, why the fuck are you interested in her? Have you seen her older sister yet? Daisy? I'd give my left nut for the girl's digits," one of Kyle's friends says, biting his knuckles to drive the point home.
All the guys start talking about how hot Daisy is, but it doesn't go unnoticed to me how Kyle doesn't join in, staring me down until I give him an answer.
Fucker.
He's got his sights on the easy prey.
While every last guy at this school with a working pair of balls will be jonesing for Daisy's attention, Kyle knows that Sky is easy pickings. The fucker sure didn't waste any time moving in on her.
Not that I wasn’t expecting some asshole to try.
The whole school knew that both Ames sisters would attend Bayshore High. It had been the talk of the summer. Not only was the island reeling with the fact that my father remarried so soon after my mom passed away, but also that his new wife brought two teenage daughters to live with us.
Kyle probably got to school bright and early yesterday and waited to see the both of them arrive in the parking lot to make his pick. And then, to put his plan into action, he pretended to bump into them innocently, ensuring he'd be the first to creep his way into Sky's life.
Of course, I don't have any proof.
But I've known the fucker his entire life.
He might act like the boy next door, but he's just like the rest of them—another rich asshole who needs the clout of having what others don't.
His friends are now on their phones, drooling over Daisy's IG account, asking if they, too, can break bro code. Like any of these motherfuckers live by any code.
