Four Years Later (One Week Girlfriend #4)(46)

It was the least I could do, offering Wade a free place to live while we went to college. His mom may live in the same town but he wanted to be on his own, just like I did.

But Des? The guy is loaded, one of those rich kids from the Bay Area who come to the university looking to party now that they’re free from their parents. He’d been the drug-dealing high school kid in the suburbs and now he’s the drug-dealing college student on campus. I like him, but not just because he’s my dealer. He’s my friend.

He’s also a user.

Aren’t we all?

“Why you up so early?” Des pushes more cereal into his mouth, munching loudly on his Cheerios. “I usually have the house all to myself on a Sunday morning.”

“You act like you live here,” I say, leaning against the counter. I need some f**king coffee, stat.

“I practically do.”

“So why aren’t you paying any rent?”

“Because I sleep on the f**king couch. Why should I have to pay rent to sleep on a come-stained couch?”

“Jesus, Des.” I reach for the coffeemaker, thankful Des actually made some. Grabbing a mug from the cabinet, I pour myself a cup, then dump sugar and creamer into it before I take a sip.

And grimace as I swallow. Damn it’s strong, even with all the cream and sugar added to it.

“You know it’s true. How many girls have we all banged at one point or another on that couch? Too many to count.” Des chuckles and shakes his head, sounding proud of the fact that my couch has hosted an endless list of chicks sprawled naked across it.

The image disgusts me. Not even a few weeks ago I probably would have high-fived him.

Now all I can think about is Chelsea. And how grossed out she’d be if she really knew all the dirty shit I’d been up to in my not-so-distant past.

“I just feel like if you’re going to stay here all the time, you should at least contribute something,” I mutter.

“I do contribute. Plenty of beer and weed to keep y’all on a continuous buzz,” he says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah, but I always pay for the weed, bro.” I do. I never expect a handout.

“I’m getting real sick of your poor-ol’-me act. You act all hard up and like you always need money, but gimme a break. Wade lives here rent-free. Why can’t I hang around here on occasion?” Des pushes the now only filled-with-milk bowl away from him and leans back in his chair, running a hand through his longish brown hair. He always has a shaggy, slightly unkempt look about him. Thin, worn T-shirts, old, holey and torn jeans, scuffed shoes. His hair is a mess, his face covered in four-day-old beard. It’s like he’s cultivated this drug dealer image, but I know he’s full of shit.

“I’ve been thinking about it and I don’t know if it’s smart that you’re always here,” I say, sipping from my coffee. My appetite has left me. I don’t want to have this conversation with Des. Not now, not really ever. He’s a friend, even if he irritates the shit out of me. I’m not in the mood for a confrontation.

“Why the hell not?” Des sounds indignant, looks shocked. “What does it matter?”

I set the mug on the counter beside me, meeting his gaze. “You’re a drug dealer.”

“So what? I’ve supplied you with enough joints to last you a lifetime.”

Chelsea would die if she knew Des was a dealer. “Maybe I’m trying to clean up my image.”

Des glares, his gaze narrowed, his jaw tight. “It’s the girl, right?”

I never said Des was stupid. “Maybe. What does it matter? Doesn’t look good that I’m on the football team and like to get high. They could kick me off.”

“That’s never bothered you before.”

“Yeah, well it should’ve,” I mutter.

Des studies me. “You know you’re f**king around with a chick who is nothing like you, Owen. She’s too goody-goody for your ass. You get in her panties yet?”

“That’s none of your goddamn business,” I spit out.

“Meaning you haven’t.” Des sighs and shakes his head. “Stick with what you know, buddy. Find some girl who’s looking for a good time and that’s it. Chelsea is just some smart, sorta plain girl who’s slumming. You’re exciting, you’re nothing like any guy she’s ever known, if she’s even known any guys, because if you want my opinion, she has virgin written all over her.”

“You need to watch what you say about her,” I warn, fury eating me up, ready to burst out and unleash all over Des’s skinny ass. “Show her some respect.”

Des laughs. “You got it bad, don’t you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this over a girl. You usually just f**k ’em and leave ’em. Hell, Wade and I both have slobbered after your leftovers and you’ve never protested. What would you say if I told you I’d pick up where you left off when you’re done with the tutor?”

“I’d say I’d beat your f**king face in until you couldn’t speak,” I say, my voice low as I stare at him.

The motherf*cker actually smiles. “Well, well. Look at you. All worked up over a girl. It’s kind of cute, Maguire. But you’re wasting your time with that one. She’s going to be the one who leaves first and damn, is it going to hurt. You’ll need me and what I supply more than anything once she’s gone.”