“Not much, running a few errands. Was wondering if you wanted to meet up for a little impromptu smoke sesh.”

Ordinarily I would, but fuck him and his weed for defying me. “Can’t. I’m busy tonight.”

“Oh, word? What you getting into? Maybe I’ll swing by.”

I should tell him it’s none of his business, but if shit goes south, I could use the alibi. “I’m chilling with Britney.”

I leave the implication hanging in the air.

“Interesting,” he muses.

I don’t have time to deal with him being butthurt or passive-aggressive about being snubbed. He did it to himself.

“Yeah. Catch you lat—”

My driver side door opens. Shit.

“Britney?” Oakley ducks his head inside my car. “Unless she’s in the trunk, I’d say you’re a fucking liar.” Quirking an eyebrow, he assesses me. “And unless you’re planning on skiing down the roof of that building, I’d say it also looks like you’re about to do something really dumb.”

Ripping my ski mask off, I shove him back and step out of my car. “Fuck off.”

He lights up a joint. “Is there a way to fuck on? If so, I’d much rather do that.”

His attempt at humor falls on deaf ears. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Me? What the fuck are you doing here?” He sweeps a hand up and down. “I might not be the smartest person out there, but I do know a black hoodie along with a ski mask and crowbar spell trouble.”

“I told you. I had to take care of something.”

He makes a face. “Don’t tell me you came here to attack Dylan. I know you hate her, but this is going too fucking far, man.”

I grind my molars. He doesn’t get to tell me what’s too fucking far. Not when it comes to her.

I laugh, but there’s not a drop of humor. “Are you seriously going to stand there and protect the girl who kicked your ass in front of the whole entire school?” Stepping forward, I snatch the joint from him. “Get the fuck out of my face, you make me sick.”

“It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.” He rips the joint out of my hand a second before it reaches my lips. “You two have beef, I get it. But your beef with her isn’t mine. I don’t want to be forced to pick a side or make her life hell because of some shit that happened back in the day between you two. You’re my boy, but she’s—”

“Family,” I finish for him.

And therein lies my biggest problem with Oak. He’s never given me a reason to doubt him or his loyalty. Until now.

“For the next year, we’ll be living under the same roof. I’d like things to be copacetic, you know?”

He offers the joint to me, but I decline. “Makes sense.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t look at me like that, man. Nothing has changed. I’m still your best friend.”

“Sure.” I’m placating him and he knows it.

Before I can blink, he charges me. “Stop being such an asshole. For the last four years, I have done everything for you aside from sucking your motherfucking dick, and now you’re gonna act like I did you dirty because I won’t help you destroy this girl’s life?” He spits on my car before walking over to his. “Fuck you.” He slaps his chest. “You don’t want to be friends with me anymore? Fine. Unlike you, I don’t need to go around ruining people to feel good about myself, you prick.”

Leaning against my Lexus, I stare him down. “You done yet?”

“Yeah.” He takes a cleansing breath. “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Good.” I take a step closer. “Because the next time you spit on my property, I’ll knock your fucking teeth out and piss in your skull.” I take another step. “You don’t want to choose sides? Fine. But don’t stand there and act like it’s because you’re so fucking noble. I can smell your bullshit from a mile away.”

The guy puts more effort into his relationship with cereal than he does with Hayley, and it’s clear he’s looking for a way to end it without having to be the one to pull the trigger.

“You’re not protecting or defending Dylan because she’s family and you’re a good guy. You’re using her.”

Something passes in his expression. “So what if I am?” He blows out a breath. “What’s the big deal?”

Christ. Oak’s like a puppy in constant need of supervision so he doesn’t chew on a wire and electrocute himself.

Even though I should be kicking his ass across the parking lot, I know us not being friends will hurt him ten times more than it will me due to all his abandonment issues.

I throw the pup a bone. “Using Dylan to make her jealous won’t help. You just need to find your balls and end the damn thing.”

He lights up another joint. “I wish it were that easy.”

“It is. Unless…” My insides coil when it occurs to me. “She’s not pregnant, is she?”

He winces. “No. Not that I know of.” He blows out a puff of smoke. “If she is, it’s not mine. We haven’t fucked in weeks.”

I want to remind him that it can take months for a chick to realize she’s knocked up, but I digress. With how uninvested he is, chances are it won’t matter to him anyway.

“Listen, the longer you keep dragging it out, the worse it will get.” I shrug. “But do what you want with your dick, man. Use and fuck Dylan or don’t. Either way, I don’t give a shit.”

“I’m not interested in fucking her.” Suspicion swirls in his eyes. “But I can’t help but think you might be.”

Oakley can go to hell. “Nah. Why would I dip my dick in some dry, mediocre meatloaf when I already have a nice juicy piece of filet mignon waiting for me whenever I want it?”

He flaps his hand around like he’s been burned. “Damn. You ain’t right, Covington. But since we’re on the subject, I heard Britney’s off the hook because her parents are throwing a fit and they never found the spray can.”

They never will because I trashed it.

“Yeah.”

I open my car door and get in. Dylan’s locking up the bakery, so she’ll be here any minute. Not only do I not want to see her, I don’t want her questioning my presence.

“Guess you’re heading home.”

“Yup.”

Since robbery isn’t on the menu any longer, I’m done here.

He shoves his hands into his pockets. “We cool, man?”

For now. “Yeah.”

“What about Dylan? Are you done fucking with her yet?”

I smirk as I rev the engine. “If you really don’t want to be caught in the cross-fire, I suggest you stop asking me questions you won’t like the answers to.”

With that, I take off.

Chapter 20

Dylan

“Are you sure I look okay?” Sawyer tugs on the long turquoise sweater she’s wearing. “It’s still the first week of September, maybe the sweater is a bad idea.”

I twirl the last strand of her hair around the barrel of the curling iron. I almost squealed when she agreed to nix the headband and let me do her hair.