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I shrug as I focus on touching my toes. “Zayla is going out with him tonight and I just… I don’t know, it seemed odd to me since Trystan is friends with Ollie.”

He grows quiet so I glance up at him. His face is set in deep thought.

“What’s that look for?” I wonder as I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear.

“It’s nothing.” He sits up. “I just thought Trystan was dating this other girl, but I could be wrong. I don’t really hang out with him that much.”

“Is there anyone you could ask that would know for sure?” I’m aware I’m asking him for a favor, and while I’m not a fan of that, my need to protect my friend is greater than my pride.

“I can do that. Give me a sec.” He stands up and jogs over to where his buddies are.

And I’m left thrown off my balance at how easily he did it.

This is so not good. I may end up liking this guy if I hang around him too much.

In high school, he would’ve been my type too. I actually had a crush on my brother’s friend who was on the football team too. I never dated or anything, but I did date a guy on the track team for a few weeks. I’ve never been in a serious relationship, though. I just really didn’t have a lot of time for that and then everything happened and…

My chest tightens as those memories I was trying to outrun tonight attempt to surface. I suck in a breath and focus on Wylder in an attempt to distract myself.

He crouches down in front of a guy with short, dark hair and says something to him. The guy listens then shakes his head and says something. Wylder stands up and jogs back over to me.

“So Trystan was dating someone, but they broke up a couple of weeks ago.” He takes a seat on the grass beside me. “And Evan—that guy I just talked to—he’s good friends with Trystan and he said that Trystan has been talking about Zayla a lot lately.”

“Oh. That’s good.” I release slow breath.

“Does that make you feel better about Zayla going out with him?” he asks, leveling his gaze with mine.

I nod. “It does. Thanks.” And it should make me feel better, but I have this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Too much stress, probably.

He smiles. “You’re welcome.”

I smile back, but it feels forced. And I think he might notice—he’s noting everything too much honestly.

“I have to go.” I stand up, glancing at the darkening sky. “It’s getting late.”

He stands up too. “Are you running back?”

“Yep.” I tuck a few strands of my hair back into the scrunchie.

“How many times do you run in a week?

“It depends. Usually, I keep it to four runs, but when I get pissed off, I usually take off running.”

“Hmmm… So you run like seven times a week then?” He has a teasing smile on his face.

I give him an unimpressed state, but it’s not matching my vibe inside me. “Well, aren't you just a comedian?”

He just keeps on grinning.

I shake my head, but I’m not mad. “I’m not pissed off all the time. I just… I don’t know. I’m picky about the people I hang out with, mostly because people like Brooks seem to be a dime a dozen.” Like Liam and his friends from high school.

“Not everyone is bad,” he says. “I know a lot of people you’d probably get along with.”

“Doubtful. I get on people’s nerves pretty easily.” And I don’t trust him.

That thought I keep to myself, though.