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Kaden: And you called me whipped. Three times this week alone. You had it coming, Golden.
“Bastards,” I huff.
But I can’t quite stop a smile from tugging at my lips. Because they do have a point. Being the youngest means that I’ve spent most of my life doing everything I can to mess with them. And if I may say so myself, I am incredibly good at it too.
A message from Rico pops up on the screen as he at last joins the conversation too.
Rico: You seriously thought he wasn’t going to beg? How could you not see that coming, Kaden? My grandma could’ve seen that coming and she’s blind in one eye. Not to mention that she’s dead.
Kaden: It’s Jace. He’s fucked and dumped more people than I’ve tortured. And that’s saying something.
Rico: True.
Eli: Can’t argue with that.
I glower at the screen. I can practically see their smirks through the phone. Shaking my head, I let out something between a huff of grudging amusement and an exasperated sigh. Then I send a message back.
Me: Fuck you all. Are you going to help me or what?
Their responses are immediate, arriving one after the other within the span of a few mere seconds.
Eli: Naturally.
Kaden: Anything.
Rico: Name it.
Warmth spreads through my soul and I smile down at the screen. Yeah, they might give me as much shit as I give them. But they have my back when I need it.
23
KAYLA
“Are you a duck or what?” I mutter.
Jace blinks and then looks down at me in genuine surprise. “What?”
I just raise my eyebrows expectantly. “A duck.”
A group of young women who look like tourists suddenly stop on the middle of the sidewalk to look down at what’s presumably a map on one of their phones. Jace effortlessly steps out into the street and even manages to swerve around a stray arm that someone flings out to point at the building across the street. After stepping back up onto the sidewalk, Jace falls in beside me again.
Faint amusement tugs at his lips as he frowns down at me. “Do you usually just skip past the beginning of a conversation and simply start it in the middle? Or did I finally manage to block out the sound of your voice for the past few minutes?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Funny.”
“I know.” He grins and wiggles his eyebrows before shooting me another questioning look. “It still doesn’t explain the duck comment, though.”
Drawing a hand over my hair, I fix my ponytail while we turn the corner and start down another street. It’s Friday evening, pleasantly warm, and most people got paid yesterday, so the streets are full of people out for a night of fun. I dodge a couple who cut past right in front of us to get to the Italian restaurant on our left.
“It’s just…” I begin, not even sure how to phrase this. “Nothing ever bothers you. It just runs right off you like water on a duck.”
He raises an eyebrow in silent question. “What would bother me?”
“I don’t know. Our fight last night? Everything I do?”
A soft chuckle escapes his chest, and he gives me a knowing look. “I grew up with three older brothers who are all various degrees of unhinged. Last night wasn’t exactly the first time someone called me a waste of space and slammed a door in my face.”
I wince, and guilt seeps through my chest.
