Wicked Lies Boys Tell

“Privacy, Dad,” I growl. “What the fuck?”

“Language,” he snaps back. “And what have I told you about having sex in my house?”

“We can talk about this later,” I bite out. When my dick isn’t still wet from just fucking my girlfriend a short while ago.

“Throw some clothes on,” he barks out. “We’re talking about it now.”

As soon as he’s gone, I shoot her an apologetic look. “Get dressed,” I tell her. “After he chews my ass out, I’ll take you home.”

She pouts, but I don’t stick around. I dress and then find my dad in the living room where he paces.

“You can’t tell me who I fuck,” I snap.

“Your future says I can.” He flashes me one of his wolfish boardroom smiles.

Fuck him and the horse he rode in on. “I love her,” I lie. “We’re going to get married one day.”

“Why must you make the same mistakes I did, Copeland? Your mother was trash. And look where Halle’s at now.” He laughs cruelly. “Bartending at some LA bar, far from you.”

I try not to flinch, but his words wound me. Mom bailed when I was young. Three or four maybe. I remember flashes of her. How she smelled like oranges and was always singing old Janis Joplin songs.

“I’m just saying Ivy Cunningham is beneath you,” he says, his voice softer. “If you stay with her, you may as well resign yourself to the fact you’ll be working at the post office like Paul and she’ll end up at a diner like Fawn.” He frowns. “Do you love her that much?”

Not really.

Not that I’d choose money or some shit over her. I just don’t love her like I should. We’ve been dating nearly two years and I’ve yet to feel that aching in my chest for her.

It’s times like these, I wish I had my best friend.

Penn would know what to do.

Anger swells up inside me. Why did he have to push me away? Why did he have to change everything about us? I could really fucking use him right now.

“You’re just seventeen,” Dad says. “You have a whole life ahead of you.”

I’m pulled from my memories when I hear Jett calling out to Ivy. Her features have softened as she regards me. I hate how hope glimmers in her eyes.

“You’re just eighteen,” I tell her, mimicking my dad’s words a while back ago. “You have a whole life ahead of you. Don’t waste it pining over some dickhead who’s not coming back.”

“Fuck you,” Ivy mutters, rare tears glittering in her eyes.

Jett swoops in and saves the motherfucking day. He pulls her to his chest, glowering at me.

“What the hell did you say to her?” he demands.

“Nothing worth repeating,” I utter, turning on my heel.

I stalk back over to my car. Leah grabs my hand when I get close.

“Everything okay? Why does she hate me so much?” she squeaks out.

“It’s fine,” I assure her.

Leah wraps her arms around my middle and hugs me. I look over the top of her head at Penn. His brown eyes swim with questions, but I know he’ll ask them later when we’re alone. Images of him naked and sprawled out in my bed have my dick hardening.

“Damn,” Leah says with a laugh, her head tilting up to look at me. “You two literally cannot be near each other without wanting to bone.”

I tug at her hair. “Shush.”

A burning glare sears into me, and this time, it’s not Penn’s. I look over to see Ivy scowling my way.

“So it doesn’t help if I do this,” Leah teases, rubbing her stomach against my dick.

I snap my eyes down to hers. “Stop.”

Penn grabs her backpack and pulls her away. “Mine,” he growls, his eyes hot on mine. Then, his stare rakes down my chest to the bulge in my pants. He licks his lips and winks at me.

To anyone nearby, they see a jealous boyfriend. A boy who doesn’t want his girl hugging his best friend. What they don’t see is a jealous boyfriend who is seconds from fucking his best friend across the hood of his car.

My dick throbs at that thought.

Down, boy.

“There you are,” Dad calls out from nearby when I walk in the front door. He steps into the foyer with a tumbler filled with amber liquid in his grip, looking sharp and vicious as per usual. Based on the way he takes in my holey jeans, combat boots, and black shirt, I’d say he isn’t impressed with my lazy look.

“What’s up?”

His irritation melts away as a predatory grin stretches across his face. My dad is good-looking, I know this. He looks like me. Just a little more refined. A few grays at his temple. Calculation in his blue eyes that comes with age and experience. I’ve seen women practically throw themselves at Dad at functions. Even the married ones. Hell, even Penn’s mom on a few occasions when she’s been hitting the booze too much. But the reason why he doesn’t date is because he’s a cold, heartless bastard. Doesn’t matter how good you look if you’re an asshole. Women can only handle that shit for so long.