Page 59 of Relapse
I rolled my eyes.Bitch.“I’m fine.”
“You sure about that? Cause you were sucking face with Tiffany today.”
The grumble that came from the backseat made me chuckle.
“I loath that cunt.”
Can’t say I disagreed with Star. Tiffany was worse than Naomi. And I hadn’t forgotten about that shit she pulled with Harper. Something I was more than happy to remind her about before I posted the videos of her making out with the school mascot costume. It was amazing what some girls would do to please a guy.
“If it makes you feel better,” I looked over my shoulder at the dark eyes glaring at me, “she tastes like shit.”
“Yeah, sure,” Silas snorted. “You had your tongue shoved far enough down her throat, I’m not surprised you tasted her ass.”
“Does Star know about your ass fetish? Cause I’m pretty sure if you shove that behemoth hanging between your legs up hers, she ain’t never gonna shit right again.”
Star’s jaw dropped while Silas glared at me with his nostrils flaring.
“Get the fuck out of my car.”
“Why so cold, buddy? I’m not judging.”
He hung his head to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Why the fuck am I friends with you?”
That was an easy one.
“I am a very pleasant person.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.” He sighed and looked up. “Get the fuck out of my car before I give you a bruise to match the one on your jaw.”
“That’s just mean.” Didn’t see me making fun of his obvious fetish, yet here he was pointing out the uppercut I failed to dodge.
“Oh, you want mean?” Prick looked me dead in the eyes and said, “Fucked Harper yet?”
This time it was my face that dropped as I smacked my lips together.
His comment also relit the fire under Star’s ass. She sprang forward, getting right in my face. “You better leave Harper alone.”
“We talked about this, Crumpet,” Silas responded before I could.
Her anger was instantly redirected to him. “No, you talked about it. I chose not to listen.”
A twinkle flashed through Silas’s light eyes as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Someone’s angling for the belt again.”
Well, that was my cue to leave.
“I’d hate to hold that up.” I opened the door and stepped out, saying, “You two have a nice night. Don’t get run over by any pirate ostriches.”
Not sure what he was smoking that night, but the asshole should’ve shared.
“Eat a dick, Mase.”
“As long as it’s not yours.” I waved over my shoulder and walked into the house.
There was a reason I typically went in through the garage, and that reason smacked me in the face the second I stepped through the doors. Moonlight streamed in through the skylight, highlighting the large sundial set in between two staircases. It felt like the universe was mocking me. As if someone up there was saying, ‘Hey check it out. Look what’s still here.’
It wasn’t the cold metal dial that got to me. It was the little girl I could still see pointing out the time we’d get married. Six o’clock, when the shadow of the dial had a slight pink tinge to it. She liked the way it looked against the black metal. It was one a.m. now. Seven hours too late to catch that tinge. But it wasn’t too late to go through her phone.
I smirked and headed through the foyer for my wing of the house. That thing had been burning a hole in my pocket all night. Chicks lived their lives on their phones and now I could finally peek at Harper’s.
