Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111038 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
He gave me a look. “You tell me.”
Zeke could easily go party. I could read that from him, yet he was here. He was worried about me, and I wanted more time with both of them. Just them. I straightened, pulling Aspen back against me. “Let’s get food and booze and watch a movie here.”
Zeke flashed a cocky smirk back. “Sounds perfect.”
We’d just headed out in my truck when Zeke said, “I like her.”
Aspen had chosen to stay behind, but we were going to Roussou for the pizza she wanted. It was supposedly the best, and she wasn’t having it when we suggested any place in Fallen Crest.
So, we were driving to Roussou.
“Why didn’t you tell me about her brother?” Zeke asked.
I slowed, pulling up to the gate. I nodded as Carl waved, and I pulled through.
“Because…” Fuck. What could I say here? “Because I don’t know much. She doesn’t talk about Owen that often, and I don’t know what happened. I’ve not pushed her.”
“I’m not talking about that brother,” Zeke said. “But I’d like to hear about him too.”
It took a second.
I clued in and glanced over.
Holding on to the handle above his door, he lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah. That brother.” His mouth set. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”
Shit. “You know?”
“We watched a movie. The account said Aspen Monson. That house? Your girl said she moved to town in the fall. I know those directors moved to town at the same time.”
I nodded.
I gripped the wheel. “It’s new with her and me. I’m not used to giving a shit about someone, and she’s got some…”
Zeke relented, his hand dropping from the door handle. His head rested against the headrest. “She’s got some hang-ups. I get it. And you were worried about me going all fanboy? You think I’d push an angle to use your woman or something?”
I gave him a look.
Zeke’s face got hard. “Dude. Seriously? I don’t give a fuck about them. They ain’t you. They ain’t someone who’s made you smile. I can be normal, you know.” He cursed under his breath, looking out his window. “I mean, I get it. The reason I like Mason Kade so much is because you took off. Mentors and shit—I don’t have one. You anchor me. No one anchored me when you were gone, but the idea of…how not to be? Mason Kade provided that. It’s why I look up to him so much. That make sense?” He cursed again, looking embarrassed. “Look, whatever. You don’t have to worry about me. It’s cool who she is, but that’s it. I know you heard us, and I meant what I said to her. As long as she takes care of you, I won’t be a dick to her.”
“Got it. Thanks.” My voice felt strained.
This had quickly gotten to be too much talking, too much sharing. Both of us cleared our throats. I expected a comment about someone’s pussy to break the mood, but instead I got: “Daniels hit on me.”
I expelled some air. “I forgot about that situation.”
“I handled it. I won’t touch her. I wouldn’t do that to you, but she’s rallying. You gotta know that.”
“I forgot. I’ve had my own crap, you know?” I turned onto the highway that’d take us to Roussou.
“I know.”
We drove in silence.
We were ten minutes out when he asked, “What are you going to do?”
“She said she and the girls were going to go after Aspen. So I guess keep Aspen away?”
“We got three months of summer. I don’t want to not hang out with my best friend.”
I didn’t want that either. “I’ll figure it out.”
He nodded, and we finished the drive in silence.
I’d never been to the Roussou pizzeria, but the place was busy when we pulled in. Inside, Roussou students were everywhere, and conversation stalled at the sight of us.
“Should I call the guys?” Zeke lowered his voice.
Seeing who had gathered around a table in the back, I wasn’t sure.
“Nah,” I told him. Fuck whatever was going to happen. If we busted heads, fine by me. I’d not let myself think much about last night, about what my brother and his friends had found out, but screw them. I wouldn’t let myself walk scared, even if we were in their town.
I went to the counter and put in Aspen’s order.
The girl was taking it down when suddenly her head popped up. “Is this for Aspen Monson?”
I almost bugged out. “Yes, and keep it down about her name.”
Her eyes got big. “Oh! Oh. Sorry. I—no one else orders that pizza. Cilantro, mozzarella, caramelized onions, Roma tomatoes, and pineapple aren’t ordered everyday. With an egg in the middle of the pie.” She looked me over and then moved to Zeke before telling us our total. Once I paid, she printed off my receipt and handed it over. “I like Aspen. That’s all.”