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“Hey, watch your mouth,” I scold, but she only rolls her eyes. Sighing, I circle my car to examine the tires again. “I wonder if they slashed them or just let the air out.”

“Did you see the evil smirks on their face?” Bailey questions. “They definitely slashed them.”

A sigh slips from my lips. “Yeah, I know.”

Bailey kicks one of the tires with the tip of her boot. “How are we going to get the tires fixed? We can’t afford it.”

“Yeah, I know.” Those seem to be my go-to words at the moment.

Usually, I’m better at hiding my worry from my sisters, but those guys have me frazzled.

I need to get my shit together.

“Here, give me your phone.” I stick out my hand.

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to call and get a quote on some tires, then I’m going to call Dad.”

“He’s not going to pick up.” She hands me her phone. “Londyn already tried, like, five times this morning.”

“Well, I’m going to try again.” I open her internet app and search local tire stores.

“Why? It’s pointless.” She plops down on the blanket I used while putting together the carburetor. “Even if he does answer his phone, he’s not going to help us.”

“He can give me the name of the landlord and their phone number.”

“And then what? Because my bet is he hasn’t even paid the deposit yet.” She stretches her legs out. “Honestly, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if perhaps he ever even rented this place. I think he told us some bullshit story so he could ditch us out in the middle of some redneck town.”

That thought has crossed my mind. That maybe our dad really has been running away from something for the last eight years and he finally decided to do it solo.

“I’m sure that’s not what—”

A car suddenly zooms down the road and peels into the driveway next door, kicking up a cloud of dirt.

“Holy hell, it’s your long-lost twin.” Bailey coughs, fanning her hand in front of her face as dust funnels around us.

I eyeball the car; a 1969 GTO Judge, black with red racing stripes. “Pretty.”

Bailey points at me. “Don’t get mesmerized yet. It could be one of their cars.” She glares at the house the car is parked in front of. I assume she is referring to Blaise, Alex, and Jaxon.

“No way. They just went inside.” I openly check the car out, my chest filling with envy.

What I wouldn’t give to have my car looking that fantastic. And with functional tires.

Bailey and I watch as the driver’s door swings open and a guy hops out. Tall, with short, dark brown hair, he looks around my age, and almost as attractive as Blaise, Alex, and Jaxon. He’s dressed in similar attire as they were—all black with chains dangling off his belt loops, thick boots covering his feet, and leather bands decorating his wrists.

“Yummy,” Bailey mutters, biting her bottom lip.

“No yummy,” I warn. “I’m pretty sure he’s related to dipshit one, two, and three.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because he looks like them.”

She pouts. “Well, that sucks.”

“Why? Were you planning on going over there and hitting on him?” I tease as I stare at my car.

“No.” Her lie shines through her tone and how she turns her head away to hide her smile.

“You’re such a little liar.” Flashing her a teasing smile, I move to dial a nearby tire company’s phone number. “Besides, I thought hitting on guys was more Payton’s thing—”

“Is that your ride?” a deep, male voice sails from over my shoulder.

I trade a wary look with Bailey before turning around. Sure enough, Mr. Yummy himself is standing beside the fence with a soft smile dancing at his lips. Although, unlike Blaise, Alex, and Jaxon, his smile doesn’t look malicious.

“Yeah,” I reply cautiously.

“It’s not too bad. Would look even better, though, if it was fixed up.” He dazzles me with a grin, but his brow crinkles as his gaze sweeps over me.

What? Has he never seen a girl in greasy pajamas before?

“It looks fine as is,” I reply flatly.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he quickly adds. “I was just trying to give you a compliment.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.” I begin to turn back around, but apparently he’s not done with the conversation yet.

“I’d like to see how it races sometime,” he continues. “There’s a place down by the river where some people get together. You should come down there sometime. I think there might be a race going on this weekend.”

Bailey leans in toward me and whispers, “I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I’ve ever seen is hitting on you right now.”

“He’s not hitting on me. In fact, I’m pretty sure he’s up to something.” Facing him again, I recline against my car. “Thanks for the invite, but until I can come up with the cash to get four new tires, I won’t be taking this out racing anytime soon.”

His brows knit. “How did all of your tires go flat?”

I point at the house just behind him. “Dipshit one, dipshit two, and dipshit three that live there decided to welcome me to the neighborhood.”

His jaw tightens. “You’ve met my brothers?”

So, he is related to the asshats next door. Dammit, I was hoping he wasn’t.

“Yep.” I move to leave. “It was nice meeting you …” I realize I don’t know his name.

Gripping the top of the fence, he easily hoists himself over. Then he walks toward me with his hand outstretched. “I’m Rhyland, and I really want to apologize for whatever my brother

s did or said to you.”

Still wary of him, I don’t shake his hand. “It’s fine. You didn’t do it.”

“Yeah, but there my brothers.” He sighs loudly. “And we’re supposed to watch out for each other. You know, make sure we don’t do anything stupid. But I’ve been distracted lately and haven’t been doing my part very well.”

I feel a bit of empathy for him. “I get that. I really do. I have three younger sisters and my dad …” I clear my throat. The last thing I need is to tell a stranger about my dad. “Anyway, it’s sort of my job to keep an eye on them and make sure they stay out of trouble. I fail, though, a lot.”

He watches me with interest. “I doubt that. I’m sure you’re just being too hard on yourself.”

“Tell that to the countless times I’ve had to pick one of them up from jail or bail them out of a bad situation.” I shake my head. I can’t be telling him this sort of stuff. Not with Blaise being his brother. “But anyway, it was nice meeting you …” Shit, I forgot his name.

Fuck, I need to start getting better sleep.

A smile graces his lips. “Rhyland.”

“Right, Rhyland.” I roll my eyes at myself. “It was really nice meeting you, Rhyland.

“It was really nice meeting you, too.” He catches my gaze. “I’d really like to know your name, though.”

I almost don’t want to give it to him, but figure he’ll probably learn it soon anyway. “It’s Hadley.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Hadley.” He smiles while offering me his hand to shake again.

Instead of shaking it, I tap my knuckles against his, because hand shaking is weird.

He chuckles but then frowns when his gaze lands on my car. “Let me buy some new tires for you. It’s the least I can do to make up for what my brothers did.”

What I wouldn’t give to be able to accept that offer, but my pride gets the best of me.

“No, thank you. I can take care of it.”

“Please,” he practically begs. “I really want to.”

I’m about to decline again when my dad’s truck pulls into the driveway.

“Oh, look, he finally found his way here,” Bailey mumbles with irritation.

I turn toward Rhyland, preparing to say goodbye so I can take care of the endless list of stuff I need to do, but he’s already over the fence and heading toward his house.

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