I shrug. I’m not proud, but I also don’t have an argument for being a dick.
It’s not the only thing that makes me an asshole. I’ve made sure more than once that Rick is around when I’m bragging about hooking up with Keira. He never liked the girl, and although I wasn’t so sure before, I now know he was jealous of her because he wanted me for himself. I weaponized that poor girl to help create distance between him and me.
“I didn’t hook up with Kiera tonight.”
I have no idea why I’ve made this confession, other than maybe it will keep him from meeting up with Seth later.
He doesn’t mention his plans, and I know I’m in no position to ask him about them.
We stand there, still glaring at each other. Although I want to grab his arm and drag him further into the parking lot to keep Seth from sitting inside and witnessing this little altercation, I have no right to touch him.
“What are you doing tomorrow?”
His eyes narrow. “What?”
“Do you have any plans?”
He takes a step back from me. “Why?”
I open my mouth to answer, but he beats me to it.
“Want to schedule ruining my plans or something?”
He’s angry. Hell, I’m angry too, but I’m sick and tired of fighting with the man more than anything else.
“Maybe we can hang out.”
He huffs a humorless laugh. “Does your cruelty know no bounds?”
“What?”
“No, Landon. I don’t want to hang out with you tomorrow.”
“Why not?”
“I have no intentions of hanging out with an asshole who only wants to drag me down.”
I bite my tongue, wondering just how much of his anger is my fault, and what percentage is of his own making.
Rick uses his key fob to unlock his door, but I grab the top before he can close himself inside.
“Are you planning on hanging out with Seth?”
His upper lip twitches, the sign that says he’s seconds away from really losing his shit. I didn’t see it often when we were kids because he’s the more levelheaded one between the two of us, but back away slowly when it happens.
“Just because you can’t close the deal with Keira doesn’t mean that I can’t with Seth.”
Rick utilizes my shock, pulling his car door closed, locking it for good measure as he cranks the damn thing. For the second time this summer, I’m left standing there, pissed off and watching him drive away.
I offered an olive branch, and he slapped me in the face with it.
I should feel relieved that he didn’t take me up on my offer. It’s been so long since we genuinely hung out, I wouldn’t have a clue how to be his friend again.
I look up long after he disappears down the road to find Seth watching from the booth inside.
He doesn’t look smug or happy with what he just witnessed. He looks a little disappointed. Instead of directing my anger back at him, I let it simmer inside of me. Seth isn’t to blame for any of this.
I refuse to give up. My life has been miserable since losing my best friend, and I need him back in my life.
I’m in desperate need to make it happen.
***
“I’m going to need your help in a couple of weeks.”
“Hello to you, too,” I mutter to Dad, closing the front door behind me.
“What’s wrong?” Mom asks, her pretty face marked with concern.
“Nothing,” I mutter. “Just bored.”
“It’s good that you mention that,” Dad says, before turning to my mom. “And quit coddling him.”
She smacks him with a dish towel before going back to the sink.
Dad watches her, his eyes dropping to her ass.
“Would you two stop? I’m going to need therapy.”
They both chuckle. Mom doesn’t even have to turn around to know what her husband was doing.
This is the household I grew up in, constantly seeing two people so much in love that they didn’t even bother to hide their attraction to each other. I won’t even mention the sounds I heard growing up.
I make a gagging noise. They both chuckle again.
Even with everything I knew growing up and watching all the couples around the clubhouse, I still managed to miss all the signs that led to Rick thinking it was okay to kiss me that night.
And I mean I missed everything—all the things that were clear as fucking day in the aftermath.
The looks.
The way his eyes were always on me, tracking me from across the room.
The way he watched my mouth when I spoke.
The way he just somehow could read my mood.
The way he defended me to others.
I missed all of that, and then I mocked him for it in my head. More than once I considered him pitiful for his obsession.
And yet, I somehow missed it terribly when it was gone.
“You need help?” I ask, both to try and halt whatever dirty game the two of them seem to always be playing, and to get my mind off the man who shut me down last night outside the diner.