Sighing, I move on to see who the rest of the messages are from.
Strangely, I have one from West, Blaine’s best guy friend and my arch nemesis since grade school. Sure, the two of us hang out a ton, but only when we’re both with Blaine. We clash like a fun, dancing pixie and a grumpy troll. The main reason we butt heads is West knows how to push my buttons, and I know I do the same to him. He constantly teases me like a douche, and I do the same. But hey, at least we both keep the douchiness even.
Things have gotten so bad that Masie and Blaine made up a rule that we aren’t allowed to stay in the same room together alone, like they think we’re going to beat the crap out of each other. West thought it was funny when they made that rule and joked that they were probably worried we were going to screw each other’s brains out. I was unamused. Well, sort of. Fine, I kind of laughed, but only at the idea of having sex with West.
Sure, he’s hot, in a blond, Gothic prince sort of way, with his chin-length, blond hair; pierced tongue; and he always has studs on his dark clothes. But Blaine is more my type, which is weird because, looking at us, you’d think West and I went together. Looks aren’t everything, though.
I swallow hard at the reminder of Blaine, which instantly leads to thoughts of Masie and the two of them kissing.
Don’t think about them! You don’t cry over your parents, and you’re not going to cry about this.
Ignoring the messages, I tap the internet tab and do a search on the card, starting by typing in the message. Nothing. Then I do an image search of the symbol. Again, nothing.
“Crap, what am I going to do?” I sigh, massaging my temples. “This sucks balls.”
“Hey! My mom says balls is a bad word.” A little kid pops his head around the corner and scowls at me. He has what I’m hoping is chocolate all over his face and leaves in his hair. “I’m going to tell.”
“I meant balls as in tennis balls,” I tell him. “And I don’t really care if you tell.”
“Well, you will,” he says, throwing a twig at me. “And you shouldn’t even be in here. You’re too old.”
“You’re never too old to play on a playground.” I’m so not in the mood for this. “Now go away and leave me alone.”
He throws another twig at me, and it pegs me in the eye.
My hand flies to my face. “You little sh—”
He cuts me off with a wicked laugh then bails down the slide.
My eye burns like a motherfucker. I pull out my phone to use the camera to try to see the damage. Great. Now I look like I have pink eye.
I sit in the slide with my hand pressed to my eye until I hear the boy heading back up again. He’s chattering to someone about a crazy girl who lives in the tunnels. Clearly, it’s time to say peace out to my hideout.
I glance out the window to make sure Blaine’s truck isn’t in the parking lot or on the street. Then I run out and hike across the grass toward the road. By now, the sky has started to grey as the sun descends behind the shallow hills surrounding Honeyton, which means I’m running out of time to find my car.
Part of me wonders if I should sneak back to Masie’s to play detective. Or maybe I should just call the police. But the note said not to. Besides, I don’t have the best track record with the police.
Before I can make up my damn mind, a dark blue, 1968 GTO rolls up to the curb in front of me.
My frown deepens.
Like my Chevelle, a GTO is very rare vehicle around town, especially one all fixed up. Seriously, I’m a little jealous. In fact, as far as I know, only one exists in this town. And I know the owner.
Very well.
Too well, probably.
West.
Great. Just what I need.
Love Square
West
I’ve been helping Blaine and Masie look for Alexis for the past hour after Masie called me, hysterical, sobbing so hard I could barely understand her. To be honest, I almost hung up on her. Not because I’m a dick—okay, well, sometimes I can be—but I’ve never been a fan of Masie, at least not enough to deal with her drama. That’s always been Blaine’s thing. Ever since high school when Alexis introduced us to her, Blaine’s had a thing for her. And Alexis has had a thing for Blaine from even before then.
It’s a whole drama-filled love triangle that, thankfully, no one talks about. Honestly, I don’t think Blaine realizes it even exists. I have no fucking idea how he doesn’t. If he paid attention for two fucking seconds, he’d be able to tell Alexis has been in love with him since the beginning of high school. But Blaine, while he’s my friend, has always been a self-centered dumbass. He sees what he wants to see, and a lot of what he sees is himself.
How Alexis can actually love him is beyond me. Even I can barely tolerate him sometimes, and I’m supposed to be his best friend. Then again, I’m not sure we’ve really been best friends since junior year. Sure, we still hang out, but things changed when he became a football god, while I focused on grades and smoking a lot of pot. Plus, Blaine joined an opposing detective organization.
Yeah, it might sound a little weird, but Blaine and I work for a special undercover program; have since we turned sixteen, just not for the same one, which has been causing friction between us. We try to ignore it, but it’s always there, like a big, old wrinkly dog drooling in the corner of the room.
“Go away,” Alexis snaps, tearing me out of my daze. “You’re the last person I want to see right now.”
“Well, hello to you, too,” I quip as I pull my car up beside her.
In reality, her comment stings like a bitch. Why, you might be asking. Well, how do I explain this in a way that won’t make me sound like a lovestruck dumbass? Hmmm … Okay, here goes.
I, West, am in love with Alexis.
Yeah, I know I sound like a total lovestruck dumbass.
Lovestruck dumbasses aside, it’s the truth. Our little friendship love triangle is actually a square; has been since a certain night a couple of years ago, when Alexis and I stayed up playing cards and drinking whiskey, and I poured my heart and soul out to her—drunkenly, of course.
I told her how my parents’ divorce was fucking with my head, and Alexis didn’t laugh at me, which sort of surprised me. Before then, we’d always latched on to the opportunity to make fun of one another. But this time she didn’t. She hugged me and told me everything was going to be okay.
“I promise it’ll get better,” she assured me, hugging me tightly.
“How do you know that?” My voice cracked. “Maybe it won’t.”
“Because you’re you,” she said, pulling me closer. “I’d probably never admit this while sober, but you’re, like, the strongest person I know. Well, besides me. But I’m a freakin’ anomaly.”
I chuckled, but on the inside, I was wound up tight.
God, she smelled good. Like whiskey and cotton candy. I wanted to take a bite. The thought startled me, but not enough to stop my cock from getting hard. Seriously, though? Since when did I get turned on by Alexis? We’d been frenemies forever, and I’d never thought of her that way before. Okay, maybe I had a couple of times.
The girl was gorgeous, even though she didn’t realize it. She didn’t show off her sexiness, like Masie or some of the other girls in our school. Still, the girl had a brain, which was always a bonus. Yet she seemed more interested in books than hooking up.
Still, fuck, she smelled so fucking good, and she was so damn warm. I found myself wanting to kiss her, and I probably would’ve, too, if Blaine hadn’t woken up from being passed out on the floor and puked all over the carpet.
Yep, if that won’t kill the mood, I don’t know what will.
It didn’t really matter, though. That vomit probably saved me from making an ass out of myself.
After that moment Alexis and I shared, I was a goner, even if I didn’t realize it at the time. And no, I didn’t fall in love with her then. Get your head out of the clouds. It took some time, a year at least of hanging out with her and trying no
t to ask if she wanted to reenact my favorite porn scenes.
It wasn’t just about fucking her, though. The truth is, underneath her rough exterior, Alexis is kind, caring, and fun. Sure, she constantly teases me, but only because I give her shit all the time. Honestly, it’s our way of flirting, even if she’ll never admit it. And I love getting her to smile. And she deserves to smile, all the damn time. But after her parents died, those smiles have become less and less frequent. If I could, I’d try to make her smile all the time.
Yep, I’m a fucking whipped pussy.
Since she’s never given any sort of sign of reciprocating my feelings, I’ve kept how I feel locked away.
Yeah, I know. I’m pathetic. I can’t help how I feel, though, just like Alexis can’t help how she feels, just like Blaine can’t help how his dick feels, and Masie can’t help that she needs to be the center of attention twenty-four fucking seven.
Yeah, feelings suck.
Even though Alexis tells me to get lost, I park at the curb and push the shifter into park.
“Now, is that any way to talk to your friend?” I tease, sneaking in a moment to discreetly check her out, unsure what she’d do if she actually caught me, and I don’t really care.
Her hair is a tangled mess of brown waves that flow down her back; she doesn’t have a drop of makeup on; and her shorts show off her long, lean legs.