Page 11 of Reckless at Westbrook High

“Attacked, then.”

I shake my head and release my hold on her, tipping my chin at their car. “Go have some fun.”

She pouts but does as she’s told, blowing a kiss to Ryan who’s standing on the front porch just outside the front door. “Look after him, Ryan.”

“I will, Mom,” he calls back, barely even bothering to remove his glare from the side of my face.

“Levi,” Brian tips his chin, opening the passenger side door for his wife so she can climb inside.

“Sup?”

He closes it behind her and rounds the car, speaking quietly so she can’t hear him. “You’ve still got the number I gave you for the clean up crew, right?”

I roll my lips to hide a knowing grin, nodding. “I got it.”

“Don’t let him forget,” he points at Ryan. “I need this place spotless by Sunday morning, and for god’s sake, don’t let him puke in the sink again.”

“I won’t,” I laugh, gently bumping his fist with the edge of mine.

He jumps into the driver’s seat and I lean back on my car to watch them leave, avoiding my best friend’s eyes while he walks over to lean back beside me.

He doesn’t know shit about what goes on behind closed doors, but he’s not stupid, either. This isn’t the first time I’ve shown up here with a black eye and a cover story to match, and it probably won’t be the last.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Wanna drink about it?”

“Fuck, yeah.”

Chapter Four

Wren

“This tastes like shit,” Kai complains, passing Callie the to go cup he bought from his favorite coffee shop on the way home just now. “Here, try it.”

She shakes her head at him but humors him all the same, passing it back with a shrug. “Tastes the same to me, fuck boy.”

“Does not.”

Damon snorts and Kai glares at him, making me laugh.

“It’s not funny, Wren.”

“Actually, it is.”

He’s pissed off because the coffee girl who refuses to fuck him didn’t show up for her shift today. He hasn’t seen her since the day before we left for Cancun and he’s damn near sulking because some guy named fucking Wyatt made his coffee for him instead of her, so yeah, it’s pretty damn funny if you ask me.

“Fuck off.”

I laugh some more and follow him out of the elevator, tipping my chin when I find our dad sitting at the island with his suit on and his head in his hands.

“Sup, Dad?”

“Where the hell have you been?”

I frown at that, ignoring the familiar kick in my heart while I move for the kitchen to grab the vodka.

---