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Reed has impeccably bad timing. I chalk it up to him being praised for handling his balls all damn day instead of using his head every once in a while.
“I’ve been thinking–” I pause as Knox walks into the quiet den, raising his eyebrows at me.
“You do an awful lot of thinking, Landon," Knox says flatly.
His emotionless voice doesn't deter the blatant challenge in his dark gleaming gaze.
“Hear me out.”
Knox and Reed exchange expressions, Reed’s is mocking while Knox's is unamused. With a harsh toss, I let the football loose with my target being Reed’s chest. He snatches it from the air with ease, his large frame shaking with a shallow laugh.
It only slightly pisses me off how easy he made that look. I'd love to see him maintain that confidence during a basic Bio 101 exam.
The moment Beth Winston stops doing his homework for him he’s going to be fucked.
“Listening,” Reed draws the word out with a taunting smirk.
Knox jumps up, seating himself on the edge of the glossy countertop. I’d say that blank face he’s giving me means he is very interested.
Maybe.
Most would think this particular expression was of mild annoyance or even a bit of apathy. After all, when you’ve been friends with Knox Reyes for over nine years you come to know the subtle differences.
If he was annoyed his lips would have a slight frown in them. Apathy would give him that far off look in his eyes. Interest, however, is this keen gaze with the smallest tinge of a lift in his left eyebrow.
Interest is indeed the look he wears now. That’s how I know he is going to say yes.
I grab another bottle from the cabinet and hold my arms out in an open invitation as if I’m speaking to a large crowd instead of my two best friends. “Let’s get drunk tonight. Just the three of us.”
“What?” Reed whines. “I’m not wasting my fun alter ego on the two of you losers.”
Ah, yes. Who could forget that Reed becomes “Reedleton” after two-ish shots of Grey Goose. You’d think he was secretly some sort of sorority girl. I fight not to roll my eyes.
“We should throw a party.” Reed looks expectantly at me. “It’s the first weekend. We survived one week. We deserve a party after all that.”
I mean we did survive. Somehow so did Dee. Fuck I survived not dropping to my knees and begging between her thighs for forgiveness so that's certainly something.
“You’re an idiot.” Knox balances his chin atop his tattooed fist. That’s code for ‘keep talking you’ll probably convince me.’
The glass bottles clink against the sleek quartz countertops as I set them down and try not to get too excited. I foresee some trouble, good trouble, in the future. The very best kind of trouble. The kind where you teeter on the edge of fun and could get you locked up in jail for a hot minute.
I know it wouldn’t be Knox’s first stint in jail for an evening. It would be for me though, so perhaps I’ll make an attempt to play it safe. If and only if I can keep “Reedleton” under control.
He's an idiot when he’s sober. Imagine how he is after two tiny shots of vodka.
“Are we going to warn Dee?” My teeth rake against the inside of my lip trying to be inconspicuous about how fucking bad I want to warn her.
Is it working? Doubtful. I'll try again subtly. “Should we not have any girls… stay over right now?"
I’ve seen the girls this week. The guys at school, they couldn’t care less about the Dee drama, the girls, the girls are eating this shit up and just sprinkling their own cruelty on top of it all.
Reed grunts. “Wow, Landon.”
“What, Reed? You have something to say?”
"You're pussyless whipped."
God that phrase is fucking atrocious. Judging by his ridiculously proud smirk I'd say he disagrees.
