Playing with Fire

Reign shook his head.

“It’s not so simple now. I wish you wouldn’t have broken the bro code.”

We clinked glasses and downed the tequila shots. I didn’t remember Reign saying anything about wanting Tess, but I believed him, because I normally wasn’t paying much attention to anything anyone said. And for the record—Reign had screwed about sixty percent of the campus population this month alone, so declaring what he had for Tess was love was pretty much on par with this Melanie chick getting butthurt when she found out I hadn’t printed out our wedding invitations.

“Why’s that?” East asked Reign.

“She’s into his sorry ass now.” Reign jerked his chin my way.

“Well, my sorry ass is not into anyone, so that’s not gonna be an issue.”

“You wanna tell me you’re really not into Taco Truck Girl?” East poked at my rib. Someone cannonballed into the pool, splashing us. A girl. She tugged at our toes underwater playfully before slicing the surface, popping up like a slutty nymph. Reign splashed her back. In love, my ass. He wouldn’t know love if it gave him a golden shower and totaled his Alfa Romeo, hurling it off a bridge.

East and I were still locked in conversation.

“Her name’s Grace,” I said curtly, because somehow it was important for me that these bastards stop referring to her by her scar or her job. “And no, I don’t want her.”

Especially after she froze me out at the food truck during our last shift and snubbed me in front of the entire school when I’d stuck my neck out for her.

East considered this.

“It’s just that you haven’t been your want-to-die-now-someone-hand-me-the-gun self since …”

“Since?” I prompted.

“Since you met her.”

My best friend was such a pussy I wanted to shut him up with a can of Friskies. I chuckled throatily. That was a good one. Me. A changed man. Because of a girl.

“For the last time, I’ve no interest in Grace Shaw.”

“For real?”

More girls dove down to tickle our feet, trying to draw our attention. We ignored them.

“How many more times can I fucking say this?” I glowered at my best friend. “I can express it in a tribal dance, or Morse code, or maybe kicking your ass.”

“Then you wouldn’t mind if I ask her out, then?” East studied me carefully. I felt my jaw twitch. Out of all the chicks at Sher U, he wanted to fuck the one I was working with. I noticed Reign stopped splashing the girl in the pool, watching for my reaction.

I hitched a shoulder up. “Go ham. Don’t forget to put a rubber on it. She seems like the type to lock you into marriage with a baby.”

What did it matter? Texas wasn’t going to go out with him if he were the only man left on planet Earth. She was probably a virgin. She didn’t date, and she was wary of the football crew. Especially after Reign exhibited the manners of a fried chicken wing when it came down to her.

“So, let me get this straight.” Reign grinned, enjoying the discussion immensely. “You’d kill anyone who disrespects her, but you won’t date her?”

I plopped down into the pool, splashing water over my face.

“That’s a good boy. Want your cookie now?” I snarled.

“Seems legit,” Reign said sarcastically.

East joined me in the pool. I was done with discussing Grace Shaw. She’d hogged enough of my time, my life, my thoughts.

“So, Max says Appleton is talking mad shit about you.” East squinted under the sun. That was news to me. Then again, I hardly kept tabs on what people said.

“He would do this to my face, but then he wouldn’t have teeth to talk smack about me with.”

“I bet Max is gonna try to arrange a second fight.” Reign joined us, dipping inside the pool and coming out of the water, shaking his head like a dog. “Would you go for a rematch if it’s on the table?”

“No way,” East warned, flashing me a look.

“For the right price, I would kill Appleton, his meathead manager, and Max himself.”

Both my friends laughed.

I did, too.

What they didn’t know was I wasn’t even kidding.

Grace

They say when it rains, it pours.

In my case, my week had been a thunderstorm wrapped inside a tornado.

It ripped away everything in my life, and all I could do was watch it swirling in the wind as I fell into the deep, dark depths of my own personal catastrophe.

“Honey pie, I’m so sorry. I know it’s the worst timing possible for you, but please consider this my official resignation.” Marla sat me down at the end of the week.

I was running on fumes at this point. West and I hadn’t been talking at all during our shifts, Grams had gone on an odd hunger strike, still mad about the CT scan that never happened, and college life was a disaster of hushed whispers and sympathetic glances ever since West St. Claire had pretty much declared I was under his protection.