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"Whitley, wait!" he shouts, running until he catches up to her. "It's not what it looks like, I promise."
"And her?" She points her manicured nail directly at me.
I groan, running a hand down my face. Jesus. I just need one day where I'm not put in this kind of situation. Just one! That’s all I’m asking for.
"It's nothing." His words would have cut like a knife a few months ago and bled me dry, but today I'm thankful I can smile in his direction and not feel a damn thing. Thanks for that, Van. You’ve been a real treat. But I’ve moved on to bigger and better things.
"Don't worry!" I shout, waving an arm at her. "He was only warning me away from their dicks! Not his!" She gasps, slapping Van across the face, and takes off with choked sobs.
Am I an asshole? Sure. But I won't let anyone spread lies about me right to my face. If I didn't mean a damn thing to him, then he would have let me go completely. He's just mad I won't let him sneak into the record store office with me anymore. I'd say he's pussy deprived. But that would be a lie. He's obviously been hiding a girlfriend–no, scratch that–a fiance away. The question is, when did he start dating her? And was it while we were screwing around? If there's one thing I don't stand for, it's fucking cheating.
"Oh, Pretty Girl." Rad barks a laugh, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and turning my face toward his. “Don’t listen to him, okay?” he asks, wrapping his fingers around my jaw and directing my mouth to his.
"Get off me, you sweaty asshole," I grunt, pushing his body away. He cackles as he stumbles, only righting himself when he bumps into the side of the house.
"He's such a fucking dick," Kieran explodes, grinding his teeth.
"Takes one to know one," Callum offers with a grunt, strolling towards us with his hands in his pocket. “You-you okay?” he asks, coming to my side and taking my cheeks in his palms. With worried eyes, he looks me over and nods, kissing my forehead.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, leaning into his embrace even though I’m anything but fine.
"Fuck sakes," Asher mutters, running a hand down his face, shaking his head. “I’m going to kill that guy.” Yeah, me too, pal.
"Welcome to the shit show," Rad says with a grimace, looking me over too. "Where every year our neighborhood cookout turns into a Real Housewives drama."
I wrinkle my nose. "You've watched Real Housewives?" I ask, raising a brow and burst out laughing when his cheeks turn pink.
"Real Housewives. Laguna Beach. The Hills. Any old-school reality drama you can think of, Rad loved to indulge in," Asher says dryly with an eye roll.
"Dick," Rad mutters, swiping a hand through his mullet.
"Well, listen. As much as I've so loved being forced to live through this hell, I'd appreciate it if someone could take me home. I have homework, and some of us have to get up and go to a job in the morning," I say with a pointed look.
"Grab your things, Pretty Girl,” Rad says with a pout, nodding toward his house, reminding me I left my backpack at their house because I was under the impression we were doing our usual couch dates. “I’ll take you home,” he says through a defeated sigh, clinging to me like he doesn't want to let me go.
Before we can manage a step, Asher huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. "Little Brat will have to wait. My father has requested our musical presence," he says through gritted teeth.
"What?" Callum murmurs, knitting his brows together when Asher heaves a breath.
"Musical presence?" I snort, nearly jerking back when his heated gaze finds mine, overflowing with a wave of fiery anger he can't seem to contain.
"He wants us to play?" Callum asks, cocking his head to the side, inspecting Asher's agitated state.
"He never wants us to play," Kieran confesses, scrunching his face. "Why?" His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows hard, looking intently at Asher, studying his reaction.
"Yeah…" Asher says with confusion, shaking his head. "Fuck. I don't know. It's weird… The entire party wants to hear us." He shrugs, moving a hand through his hair.
"You'll stay?" Callum murmurs in my ear when we meander back into the house, standing an inch apart in the living room.
"Sure," I say, offering him a tight smile, despite wanting to run as far away as I can from Van and his weird, psycho bullshit.
With a few more murmured words, I sit my stuff down and help the boys move their equipment to the center of the cul-de-sac, prepping for their impromptu performance for the entire neighborhood crowding around. The crowd’s drunk voices rise into whistles and hollers the moment Asher hits the first note of the evening.
Leaningforward,Iputmy elbows on my knees, gripping my phone. Heart after heart floats up the screen, accompanied by comments of praise and admiration. My breaths shudder in my chest, ballooning with elation and pride.
Wow! Following you guys now!
You guys sound amazing!
