“Clearly, ‘cause who the fuck am I? Only your club president. Your best friend. The man you have called brother since we were wrapped in the same fucking baby blanket.”
“That’s the exact fucking reason I didn’t tell you. Because you are all those things. And I didn’t want to drag anyone I cared about into my father’s shit.”
“Then what is Liv doing here?”
“Trust me when I tell you, I had nothing to do with it. Pony sent her here to watch me. He threatened to burn down her studio with her in it. He somehow found out we wereinvolved.”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”
“She needed a shoulder to cry on after the funeral.”
“God, you are a piranha. You went after the Bowman’s grieving daughter?”
“No!” My blood pressure spikes. “It wasn’t like that at all. Nothing was supposed to happen. I was trying to be her friend.”
Ky’s eyebrows rise so high they touch his blond hairline. “You? A friend? To a female?” He snickers.
“You make it sound like it’s preposterous.”
“It is.” He barks out a laugh.
“We have known Liv our whole lives. Why wouldn’t I be there for her?”
“I mean, you would, but not without ulterior motives. Just look at what happened at the prom.” He just had to dredge that up.
“That wasn’t my fault.”
Ky doesn’t buy that for one minute.
“It’s true. Sort of. I didn’t mean for it to happen. And I sure as hell never meant for Liv to see it.” I slam both my fists down on the metal table, causing heads to spin in our direction.
“Whoa, chill out, brother. I’m the one who’s supposed to be slamming tables.”
“Everything is just a complete fucking mess.” I rest my head in my hands, slide my fingers into my hair, and pull.
“So, let’s fix it.” Ky thinks it’s just that easy.
“I’m trying. What the fuck do you think I’m doing here? It’s not a vacation.”
“I see that. Your face is hella fucked up. Which black eye did Liv give you?” He thinks he’s funny.
“None, but her tall friend put a nice beating on me.”
“He doesn’t like your ugly mug either, huh?”
“Shut the fuck up.” I ball the paper napkin up and chuck it at him. Ky opens the end of the straw and blows the wrapper at me in retaliation. For one split second, I forget about all my problems.
The waitress drops our food off in the middle of our paper product war.
“Enjoy.” She purses her lips in an amused way. She’s not the same waitress from early this morning. The one serving us today looks like a retired show girl. She’s an older woman with a full, flashy face of makeup and pinned-up hair.
“Thanks,” I offer as Ky eyes his burger like he’s never seen a piece of meat before. I watch as he picks it up and takes a monstrous bite.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you were hungry.” I squirt some ketchup on my fries.
“It’s so good.” He talks with his mouth full. “Kira has been trying to kill me with green smoothies. I want to throw up in my mouth every time I drink one. She’s on some fucking health kick.” He takes another gargantuan bite. “The things you do for love,” he mumbles.
“At least you got the girl you wanted.” I smush a fry into the plate.
