Page 6 of Wicked

“Don’t make this arrangement into anything more than what we agreed on. You offered toeasemy burden for a month. My ask is your Wednesdays and Thursdays for being a jerk, which is nothing new from guys like you.”

“Guys like me?”

We skate side by side. Round a curve. I lace our fingers. She doesn’t object, tightening her hold.

“Harper?”

“Cocky. Think they’re God’s gift to women. Sex on the mind. Ruthless when there’s money or status at stake.”

Man, she nailed my best qualities.

“Eventually, though, karma catches up to them.”

“It does?”

This conversation is getting interesting. We do a lap around the rink. April catches up to us, grabs ahold of my free hand, and we do a lap as a trio. Anyone looking on probably assumes we’re a family. Mommy and Daddy skating with their sweet little girl, the spitting image of her parents.

I glance sidelong at the girls. With Harper’s and my dark hair and April and Harper’s slight build, we could be a family. Holy shit! I yank my hands from theirs. We are not a family. April looks up at me and frowns.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, kid.”

“I’m not a kid. I’ll be thirteen in six months, a woman.”

“Teenager,” I clarify. “And may the big man above save us all when that day comes.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m hungry. Can we take a break? Eat?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

Harper takes the lead. We skate off the rink and onto carpet before ending up standing in line for food. I order the healthiest thing on the menu—a super-sized water and pretzels without the small container of cheese. But I can’t help eyeing the ball of spunk scarfing down her meal.

“Ugh, this is sooo good.” April shovels the pepperoni pizza into her mouth. Grease smears her chin. She downs her water and reaches for another slice.

Harper eats in silence, taking small bites. She doesn’t speak until we’ve cleaned off our plates.

“Manners, little miss.”

April wipes the grease off her face with a napkin and clasps her hands on the table. “Thank you for paying for our food. It was nice of you.”

I sit taller, and shit, is my chest puffed out? I clear my throat. I’m not a nice guy. I’m in this for me. In this to get in Harper’s pants so I can finally get in Missy’s.

Fuck, that stream of thought ismessedup. But hey, I’m a douchebag. I don’t know any better.

“Yeah, sure,kid.”

April opens her mouth, ready to tell me off, but something or someone over my shoulder catches her attention. Her eyes widen, and she plays with her hair. Harper looks where April is looking.

“Remind Parker I’ll kick his butt if he’s not nice to you.”

“So I can go skate with him?”

“Only if you tell him.”

“How will you know if I do or don’t?”

“Oh, I’ll know.”

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