Oh, no, here he comes. Act cool, unaffected, nonchalant—dammit, who is that girl?
As long as I’ve known Killian, I’ve never seen him act that friendly with another girl before. And that girl, Brynn, is just as adorable as her sweet little name.
I clear my throat and take a bite of my sandwich just as he makes it to our table and drops into the seat across from me. He’s wearing a yellow T-shirt that brings out the gold flecks in his eyes. I force my gaze away to avoid getting lost in them and read the words The Book Was Better scrolled across his broad masculine chest. I consider telling him he needs to start buying bigger clothes when—why is he smirking?
“Why aren’t you eating?” Girl problems rob you of your appetite?
“I ate a protein bar in class.” His phone chimes, and when he reads it, he grins before texting back and tucking it back into his pocket. “I keep meaning to ask you if you ever heard back from your dad.”
From one uncomfortable thought to the next. Thanks, Kill.
“No, not yet.” I pick at the crust on my sandwich, my stomach rejecting the little I’ve already eaten. “It’s cool. He has a new girlfriend, and she has kids, so I’m sure he’s busy with them.”
All humor dissolves from his expression. “How long has it been?”
I have no interest in sharing with Killian how pathetic it is that my own biological dad, who made huge attempts to contact me, has now decided, after getting to know me a little bit, that he want’s nothing to do with me, so I lie. “Not long.” Three months.
“Hmm.” He squints out at the clusters of college students, but doesn’t seem to be actually looking at anything.
Time for a subject change. “Have you talked to your mom recently?” It’s a shitty thing to do, flipping the subject from my absent parent to his. Last time he accepted a call from his mom, that I’m aware of, was over the summer, and when he got off the phone, he seemed smaller. She’s always been horrible for his self-esteem, telling him he’s not good enough, which is part of the reason I think he tries so hard to be the best at everything: the endless search for her approval that will most likely never come.
He flicks at something on the table and shakes his head. “No.”
I drop my chin, hating the vibe that’s forming between us. “Hey, Kill? I hope you know I—”
“Hey, babe.” Clifford pulls out the chair between Killian and me with a loud scrape against the concrete.
Killian leans back in his chair and wipes the concerned look he was wearing clean off his face. Clifford looks between us and shrugs. “What did I interrupt?” He reaches out and grabs my hand.
Killian pins Clifford’s hand on mine with a glare, and the ache I felt when he was with Brynn earlier comes back. He doesn’t like seeing me with a guy any more than I like seeing him with a girl, and for two best friends, how fucked up is that?
I slide my hand free and put it to use by taking a bite of my sandwich, which smells off. Gamey or something, maybe it’s expired. “Yeah, we were just talking about my dad.”
“Does he have a fight coming up or something?” Clifford lights a cigarette, and while he’s busy doing that, Killian and I share a glance.
Clifford doesn’t know about my biological father Trip or my asshole ex-stepdad Stewart. All he knows is Blake “The Snake” Daniels is my adopted, and for all intents and purposes my only, Dad.
“Yeah, I think he does.”
“Sweet, let me know when so I can get some money on it.”
Killian blows out an annoyed breath that Clifford doesn’t seem to pick up on.
He takes a long pull from his cigarette. making no attempt to divert the exhale of smoke and it billows directly into our faces. “You have plans for Valentine’s Day, Killian?”
I fan away the fumes and stare at my friend, more interested in his answer than I bet Clifford is.
Killian’s gaze stays on mine and he nods. “I do.”
It’s like a kick to the chest, but I push through the unwarranted pain and smile. “With Brynn?”
He grins shyly and nods.
I know that smile. He likes her. God, why does that hurt so bad?
“Nice, well if you’re interested, we’re having a Fuck V-day party at my place that night.”
I jerk my head to Clifford. “What? I thought we were—”
“Oh, we’re going out first, but afterward we’re having a party.” He must see the disappointment on my face because his expression grows soft. “Hey, don’t worry. You’ll love what I have planned.”
The last thing I want to do on the anniversary of that day is be stuck at an obnoxious party with Clifford’s stupid friends.
Killian’s eyes communicate so much as he stares across the table at me: sadness, sympathy, and maybe some regret.
“Listen, I, uh…” I wad up my trash and grab my backpack. “I’m going to skip my next class and head home for a bit. I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, and I’m feeling pretty crappy.”
“Sounds good, babe.”