Page 15 of Dirty Secrets

It was rare I drank enough to affect me, but when I did, one of the guys stayed sober to make sure I was okay.

Zavier and Reid apparently had a beer and got over their issues with each other, since they’d been talking happily in the kitchen for the past few hours, and Zavier poked his head into my room to check on me as if he’d done the wrong thing earlier.

He hadn’t, I was the one with the problem. I’d had no right to act mad at him just because I’d felt embarrassed for thinkinghe’d be attracted to me, and for the guys joking about it, so I’d hauled him onto the bed so he could watch a movie with me and Logan for a while.

By dinner, they’d both left to hang out with Cruz, leaving me alone with Reid.

“Hey,” Reid said warily when I entered the kitchen, finding him sitting at the counter.

“Hey. Why did you stay home?” I asked with a frown as he got to his feet.

“I wanted to stay home with you instead.” He hugged me, his voice gentle. “Fighting with you sucks. I know you’re an adult, I just worry about you and get defensive. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I know. Do you want to go to the Pit or something? I can drive so you can drink?” I offered as I stepped back, relieved that he hadn’t stayed home to argue with me.

I swore it was all we’d done lately.

The Pit was just the Heights’ abandoned swimming pool. The tall, chain link fence was covered in vines and weeds, making it the perfect hidden place to graffiti, sleep, and host fights.

“I’ll drive so you can have one or two and relax. C’mon, go put on your best sweats and hoodie. Let loose tonight,” he chuckled, making me wince.

“You know that doesn’t really appeal to me.”

“You don’t have to get drunk, just have enough to get a little tipsy. We can tag some walls or something,” he grinned, knowing that would convince me.

I loved graffiti art, the Heights was covered in it, and we’d spent a lot of nights out on the street leaving our mark on abandoned buildings.

There wasn’t much else to do around here. Considering they’d never rebuilt the Police Station after someone had burnedit down last year, it was unlikely they’d ever find the money to invest in shit for people to do around here.

“You really know how to twist my arm,” I huffed, making him wink.

“I’d be worried if after all these years I couldn’t. We’re good, right?” he asked to double check, earning a small smile.

“Yeah, we’re good. I’ll grab my things and we can go.”

Maybe a night out was what we needed. We used to go out every night to tag walls, set shit on fire, and get in fights. These past six months had somehow led to most nights at home and the guys being more focused on getting laid than anything else.

I changed into my black, baggy cargo pants and black crop top that stopped just above my belly button, making sure to grab a hoodie on my way out. It was one of Reid’s old hoodies, so it was way too big on me, but it was really warm and had a massive hood, which was great at hiding my face when we were sneaking around with spray paint.

I shoved my feet into my old, worn high top sneakers, sighing when I noticed the hole on the side was bigger. These were my favorite, and new shoes weren’t a priority over food and bills.

I was almost out of mascara too, just to make matters worse. I didn’t have a lot of things, but basic makeup to feel better about myself was one thing I made sure to keep on hand.

I didn’t give a fuck about the latest phone or computer, my phone was old but it still worked, and our TVs were only those fancy smart TVs because Reid had bought them off someone selling them cheap.

They were definitely stolen, but most things in the Heights were.

I snagged my backpack on the way into the living room, the tinkering of the metal spray cans in it making me smile. It had been a few weeks, so I was looking forward to this.

Reid’s eyes ran over me when I walked in, his gaze lingering on my holey shoes for a second but he didn’t mention it. He knew we couldn’t afford new ones, so telling me to get some was pointless.

“Ready to go?” he asked as he handed me a six pack of beer, opening the door to let me past.

“Do the guys know we’re going out?”

“Yeah, I texted Logan. They’ve got keys to get back in,” he answered, sticking a cigarette between his lips and lighting it, handing it to me once it was lit before lighting another one for himself. We walked to the car and climbed in, the Challenger roaring to life and making the neighbors curtains move as they came to investigate.

I was surprised no one had stolen our cars, but it probably helped that the last time someone had been caught sniffing around them, Reid and Zavier had beaten them half to death.

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