Hostile(28)

He sits back down on my couch, his legs spread wide with one arm draped over the back, and he’s back to looking like the cocky motherfucker I know. “Take it from a huge sellout . . . I get it.”

“How are you a sellout?” I sit down again but a little further from him.

“I do everything according to the book of my father. Just so I can gain his company someday. So, I can take over.”

“For the greater good,” I point out.

His cocky grin widens. “I didn’t say I don’t have my reasons. But I think your dad will forgive you.”

This. Guy.

It’s like he gets me in a way no one ever has, but I still can’t figure him out.





NINETEEN





“You’re staring, dude.” I’m pulled from thoughts about my current obsession and being at his place last week when Josh nudges me.

“What?”

He grins and then shakes his head, his meaty paw digging into my shoulder. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. You can’t stop gawking at Bree.”

Right. Bree. That’s who I’m staring at. Not her very, very hot brother sitting right next to her at their lunch table.

I’m totally not staring at his messy, although super-hot, hair, or his muscular arm covered in ink. I’m not thinking about how I’ve seen him without most of his clothes and felt his body grinding on mine. I’m, for sure, not thinking about his perfect dick that I didn’t get a close enough glimpse at as we cleaned up and not even when said dick was in my hand.

I reluctantly turn to Josh. “I’m not staring.”

He coughs loudly into his hand, “Bullshit.” And then laughs at his own joke. Seriously, how the hell are we friends?

“I’m not. I was just thinking about after school. I should probably go talk to Rhett.”

“Rhett?” Josh spits his name out with disgust, causing me to clench my fists.

“Yeah. Rhett. We’re friends.” Friends who maybe kiss and make each other come, but I don’t need to add that part.

He points his finger in my direction. “You’re friends with him.” He tosses his hand back in Rhett’s direction.

I only smile as I stand, trying to hide the goofiest fucking grin because yeah, I think we’re finally at that status at the very least. He didn’t make me leave afterward. We hung out, and he opened up to me.

More than I ever thought he would. He confided in me about his parents and thinking something is wrong with him. And I’m going to do my best to show him there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. I couldn’t find the balls to invite him over this weekend or even yesterday after school, but tonight—I know I have an in. I pat Josh on the shoulder in a condescending way. “Yup. Friends.”

I walk away with my backpack over my shoulder, not waiting to hear anything else from him and make my way to Rhett’s table, my heart in my throat the entire time. I have no idea how he makes me such a jumbled-up mess when I’m in his presence, but whatever. I’ll deal with it as long as I can be around him.

“Hey, Rhett.”

He looks up at me, not offering a smile but not looking too annoyed by my presence. So, you know . . . progress. “Grayson.”

“Are you lost?” his brother, Fletcher—who my football coach tried relentlessly to get to join the football team because the dude is built—pipes up, glaring in my direction.

I get it. We haven’t exactly been friendly. But I mean, come on. It’s not like I go around shoving nerds in lockers or whatever the hell they think jocks do. And if I ever saw that, I’d stop it.

“Nope. Looking for Rhett.” I turn to him, and now I swear I see a wry grin playing on those sinful lips. “Can we talk for a second?”

“Sure. Sit.” He pushes the chair next to him out with his foot. I’m surprised he doesn’t pull me away to speak in private, but that’s okay too.

Bree, who’s sitting next to him is watching him carefully, clearly wanting to say something. I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard her speak before. I mean, I’ve heard Fletcher—he’s the one who raises his hand with every single answer in class.

I remove my bag from my shoulder and drop it down next to me as he waits for me, almost in a challenge. I sit down with confidence. I may be a bumbling fool around him, but I’m still the overconfident guy I always was. “So, we volunteering tonight or what?”

“You. Volunteer,” Fletcher snorts, clearly still annoyed by me being near his brother.

“Yeah,” Rhett answers, sitting up a little straighter. He turns toward Bree and Fletcher. “He’s been helping out at the mission.”

Bree’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. Okay, they’re clearly not my biggest fans. “He does?”

Rhett clears his throat. I can tell he’s embarrassed by me. I should be offended, but I let him get away with it. Well, sort of. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and pull him to mine, grinning like an idiot and laying it on thick. “We’re friends now. Is that a big deal?”

Rhett looks like he wants to shove me away, but I give him credit when he doesn’t. Although his body is tense as hell. “We are. I guess.”