4. Bones
CHAPTER 4
BONES
I rub the towel along my face and neck, then let it hang over my shoulders as I arch my brow at Alek and Evan. They turned up halfway through self-defense class, and now that everyone is gone, they stand before me, holding hands and looking way too loved up.
It almost makes me sick.
“What?” I snap.
“Someone is grumpy today.” Alek grins. “Can’t we see our friend?”
“You’re weird when you’re in love,” I retort. “I think the cool distance we had was great.”
Evan rolls his eyes. “What dumbass here is trying to ask is, do you want to come out for some food?”
“With whom and why?” I ask, smelling a trap but not sure why.
“Just us.” Evan shrugs, seeming to deflate a bit. “Lally is busy all the time, and so are Alice and Tommy—” He stops, forcing himself to brighten up. “No Skylar, I promise. He’s busy anyway.”
“So I’m your last resort?” I arch a brow and hold back from voicing the question I want to ask: why is he busy?
I don’t want them to think I care. They seem to be team Skylar and keep pushing us together.
“You’re our friend.” Evan sighs. “Please? Don’t leave me with grumpy all night.”
Alek frowns and looks at me. “And he’s less grumpy? He’s a total prick.”
He isn’t wrong. I really am. There’s a good reason for that, but Evan never cared, nor did Alek. They don’t care how much I push them away. They just keep coming back. They forced themselves into my life and became my friends. It’s times like this when I wonder why they show up time and time again, but I find myself nodding.
“Okay, but you’re paying.”
“Awesome!” Evan slings his arm around me before wrinkling his nose and stepping back. “You need to shower first. You’re all sweaty.”
“You don’t complain when I’m all sweaty.” Alek smirks, looking him over.
I roll my eyes. “None of this flirty shit all night or I’ll leave,” I warn as I head to the showers.
“Why couldn’t Skylar come?” I finally ask. There, I held off for two hours while we ate and drank. It shouldn’t cause any suspicion, and it’s not like I care. I’m just curious.
Evan snorts and hands some bills to Alek, making me frown. “We bet on how long you would resist asking.” My nostrils flare and I go to stand, but he leans in like he’s sharing gossip with me. “He started a new job.”
“I was not aware Skylar had any prospects or dreams other than being a delinquent,” I remark as I sip my beer, frowning at the cheap taste.
Alek snorts out a laugh as Evan sighs. “Nah, he just acts that way,” Alek says. “He’s wanted to be a professional racer since he was a kid, but he grew up poor, so he started street racing to earn money so he didn’t live on the streets. It’s how we became friends. A job came up at my garage and they wanted him. He’s really excited.” He eyes me. “Be nice about it. Sky acts all tough, but he’s been down lately, and this is good for him.”
That’s also news to me, and I digest it. Skylar has been in more trouble than normal recently. Is it an act, or is he looking for attention? I never knew he grew up so poor, and it makes more sense considering his behavior. I guess I just assumed he was the spoiled, racing playboy I see everywhere—always drunk and fucking around.
I act like I don’t care, leaning back with my beer dangling from my fingers. “At least it means he will be out of my hair.”
“You’re prickly when it comes to him.” Alek sips his beer, one arm slung possessively over Evan’s shoulders. Evan’s hand is on his thigh for everyone to see. As if anyone needed more signs that they were both off-limits. They practically have “married” written across their foreheads.
I shrug. “He annoys me.”
Evan grins like he knows something I don’t. “I think it’s good for him. He’ll be great at it. I saw him race, and no offense, baby, but he might even be better than you.”
Alek’s eyes narrow in defiance, and I smirk, but Evan ignores him. He’s the only person who could ever get away with saying shit like that to Alek. The boy has him on a leash and he knows it. “I guess he will be busy now.”
A stab of sadness fills me.
He won’t bother me anymore, so it means I won’t have to spend all my time at the police station. I’m impressed that he’s finally taking life seriously. It’s clear he has too much potential to waste it the way he does. I saw the intelligence in his eyes the night of the attack. He’s smart; he just masks it behind arrogance and playboy flare.
“Why do you look sad?” Evan grins evilly as he sits back. “Do you want to know something, Bones? The harder you hate someone, the harder you fall.” He glances at Alek. “Trust me. Hate is awfully close to love.”
I snort. “You’re both insane. The day I love Skylar Warren is the day when hell freezes over.” Leaning in, I point at them. “I will never care for that stupid boy.”
The grins they wear tell me what they think about that.
They think I’m a liar.
The worst part is that I think I’m a liar as well.
Later that night, I stare out at Pine Valley’s skyline from my penthouse. My hand is wrapped around a crystal tumbler holding aged whiskey imported from the UK. The wind whips around me, cooling me, but I refuse to head inside. I lean onto the glass barrier and peer down at the city spread below me. My mind wanders, and I wonder where he is.
Skylar . . . I shouldn’t, but I’m curious.
I can count on one hand how many things I know about him. He likes to race and watch horror movies, he’s sarcastic and impulsive, and apparently, he grew up poor. That’s it. That’s all I know. He’s no closer to me than anyone else, yet here I am, thinking of him. It has to be because of Alek’s and Evan’s teasing.
They are wrong, though. I will never fall for him or anyone.
I won’t let anyone close, not again. I can’t, not with my past still hanging over my head, and Skylar would be trouble with a capital T. No, it’s better this way.
I need my solitude.
It’s safe, which is what I need for now.
Turning around, I down my drink and head back inside the modern penthouse my father funded. It’s another form of his control, and I allow it for now so I can get what I want. After all, he taught me to play the game and play it well.
Once I learn the truth, I can finally be free of this fucking agony.
My mother once told me I was too much like my father, and maybe she’s right. Walking through my bedroom, I head toward the bathroom, and with a press of a button, low lighting flickers on and the walk-in shower turns on. Dropping the glass to the counter, I step into the cubicle and tip my head back, letting the burning water chase away my past until I feel nothing.
A smirking smile pops into my head—his smile, daring me to love him.
Doesn’t he know I’m not capable of that?
Not anymore.
There is nothing left of me to give to another.