âI just need to stop in at the hardware store before we go back to the house, okay?â
I groaned. âHave you gotten any quicker at doing that since we were in high school?â
Kianâs gaze strayed to a guy in cement-splattered workpants and a shirt with âHennessy Exterior Paintingâ printed on the back. The guyâs biceps bulged from carrying two enormous cans of paint toward a truck with the same logo painted on the side.
Eventually, he dragged his gaze back to me. âWhat do you have against the hardware store, Vaughn? Truly, how did it hurt you? Because for as long as Iâve known you, which is a fucking long time, youâve always complained about the place.â
I ignored the flicker of something inside me that hated the way Kian had noticed that guy. âItâs not the place I hate. Itâs that when you drag me here itâs a minimum one-hour stay. Often more like two. They need a bored friendâs section where tortured people like me can congregate.â
He snorted on a laugh. âAnd do what? Play video games? Do arts and crafts, or sing along to an acoustic guitar?â
âSo we can formulate a plot to get our loved one to actually leave the damn store in a reasonable amount of time.â
Kian glanced at me. âIâm your loved one, huh?â
I didnât answer.
He parked the car and got out, striding off so gleefully I was surprised he wasnât skipping and clicking his heels together in midair. I trudged along behind him.
He glanced back over his shoulder. âYou could just learn to love browsing the aisles. Picking out new power tools makes every day better.â
I begged to differ, but whatever. Kian shoved a cart in my direction with a warning not to ram the backs of his heels like Iâd done when we were in ninth grade.
The memory amused me. âI was hoping if I injured you bad enough, weâd get to leave before you moved into aisle twenty-seven and built yourself a nest.â
He shot me a look. âHa ha. Hilarious.â But then his eyes got a faraway expression in them. âIf I lived here, I could make so much stuff. Iâd be the king of DIY.â
I grabbed the list from his hand, knowing if I didnât take over the show weâd be here until closing. âBatteries. Tile adhesive. Oxy-something or otherâ¦â
âOxyanedride. Itâs a pool cleaner.â
âRight, I knew that.â
âYouâve never cleaned the pool once in your thirty-one years. How would you know that?â
He had a point. âFine. Iâve never cleaned a pool. Iâve never had to cook or clean for myself. Iâm spoiled white trash. Happy?â
Kian sighed. âNo, not happy. I donât live to piss you off, Vaughn. Though apparently, Iâm not the only one who makes you all grouchy. What was with you not even saying goodbye to Rebel this morning?â
âDidnât realize that was in our roommate handbook.â I strode away with jerky steps, taking the trolley with me. I wasnât even sure why I was being so pissy. Might have had something to do with Rebel. Might have been the uncomfortable feeling I got in the pit of my stomach every time I thought about taking her to that party tonight.
Might have been Kian potentially murdering my father.
Or him checking out a guy right in front of me. None of them were exactly my idea of a good time.
When Kian caught up to me, he had a bucket of tile adhesive in his hand. He put it down in the shopping cart, then jumped in front of it so I couldnât push it any farther. I tried to reverse, but he wouldnât let the cart go.
âYou like her,â he declared. âYou like her, and itâs killing you to watch her with another guy.â
That was easier than admitting I was still gutted from the way sheâd pulled away from me this morning. And that him checking out guys kinda pissed me off.
âYeah, well, you like her too,â I grumbled.
To my surprise, Kian nodded. âSheâs gorgeous. And funny. I like having her around.â
âShe hasnât got a dick,â I added on bluntly.
He raised an eyebrow. âCould you be any more jealous?â
âWhat the hell do I have to be jealous of?â
âThat guy out there in the parking lot⦠Just âcause I check out a guy doesnât mean shit. And anyway, how do you know she hasnât got a dick? She could be trans.â
âAnd I could be the fucking prime minister of Mars. Iâve seen her naked, Kian. Trust me, thereâs no dick.â
Kian could barely conceal his grin. âWhen did that happen?â
I shrugged. âAt Fangâs clubhouse the other night.â
âYou get her off?â
âWhat? No. He did.â
Kian nodded, then steeled me with a glare. âYou would have gotten her off though, right? I taught you at least that much before you up and marriedââ
âShut up.â
He raised an eyebrow. âAbout your wife or how I taught you all about getting off?â
Heat flushed my face. âDonât be a fucking dick, Kian.â
âDonât be so in the closet, Vaughn. Nobody cares if you used to like me jerking your cock.â
I wasnât doing this with him. Because people did fucking care. People had cared and people had gotten hurt. He was opening up old wounds, and I wasnât in the fucking mood after everything that had gone down with Rebel during the night. I stormed off down the next aisle, even though it was clearly marked âropes and pulleys,â neither of which was on Kianâs list.
Caleb Black stood in the middle of the aisle, a length of thin rope in his hand. He glanced up when I entered, and I felt like Iâd stepped right inside a pressure cooker. If heâd heard what Kian had saidâ¦
âCaleb!â I overcompensated with a wide smile and pointed to the rope. âPlanning to rob a bank and take hostages?â
Caleb frowned and shook his head. âWhat?â
I chuckled. âSorry. Bad joke. Iâm looking forward to your party tonight. Itâs okay if I bring a date and a couple of friends, right?â
He squinted at me. âYour date hot?â
She was, but I didnât get why heâd ask. âYes?â
âGood. She can come. No uglies. Your friends too, if you want, whatever. Weâve got plenty of beer.â He held up his length of rope. âGotta get back to the house and tie down some of the inflatables. They were flapping around a bit when the breeze kicked up this morning. See you tonight.â
âSee you then.â
Caleb stalked away, and Kian appeared.
âWhere were you?â I asked.
âGiving you a minute to cool down, then I heard you say Caleb and I thought Iâd better not interrupt. That was Caleb as inâ¦â
âThe piece of shit who hurt Rebel? Yeah, thatâs him.â
âHe reminds me of a snake. Was it me or were his eyes too close together?â
âIt wasnât just you.â
Caleb walked away to pay for his rope.
âYou believe heâs using that to tie down inflatable skeleton decorations?â Kian asked.
We both stood in silence, our earlier argument forgotten against a common enemy.
âIâm not taking my eyes off Rebel tonight,â Kian muttered.
Neither was I.