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Tiller groans and sits up. He stares at me holding his face. “She’s so mean.”
I scratch the side of my head. “Never said I was going.” Destroying, going, two totally different meanings if you ask me.
She points at me and Tiller, warning clear in her voice. “Don’t you dare ruin her day. You had your chance and didn’t say anything.”
I smile. All’s fair in love and war and to be honest, I do dumb things and Willa knows this. “So I should sit back and let her marry the wrong guy?”
Willa rolls her eyes as if she can’t possibly reason with me. I study her stern expression knowing if I peel back the layers of her order “don’t ruin her day,” she’s secretly telling me to do something, isn’t she?
Don’t answer. I’ve already made my mind up and I’ve never been one for peer pressure.
Ricky strolls into the kitchen, smiling and whistling at Willa. He’s dressed in a suit. Can you believe this shit? My own family turning on me and attending a wedding that shouldn’t even be happening. He kisses her in front of us, his hands on her face. It’s then I notice he’s wearing a ring on a certain finger. And guess who’s also wearing one?
Not Tiller.
If you guessed Willz, you’d be right.
I stare at the two of them. “Did you get hitched?”
Tiller, me, and Camden watch Willa’s expressions shift from love to annoyance as she warns her maybe husband, “Don’t tell them.”
Ricky beams with pride and kisses her cheek. “Yep. Two weeks ago.”
“And you didn’t tell us?” Tiller asks, sitting up. “Not that I would have attended your wedding.”
“Because I didn’t want you fools knowing,” she barks, tucking her phone inside her purse, her expression bland and indifferent. “Now, we’re leaving and you’re staying here.”
Ricky laughs. “That’s funny. You don’t expect them to actually listen to you, do you?”
She pulls him along with her. “No, but at least this way I can tell the police I had no part in it.”
It takes me a moment to comprehend the fact that our uncle got married without us knowing, to Tiller and Camden staring at me. Camden flips his hands up. “I have to be home by three. Let’s go.”
Tiller stands, his hands in his boxers on his dick. He’s disgusting. Don’t look. “You have a plan?”
“Yeah. Get your hands out of your fucking boxers and get dressed.”
“Suck my tip.”
Camden’s confused expression slides to mine. “He means his penis, right?”
“Yes.” I lock my arm around Camden’s shoulders. “Have you ever been arrested?”
“No.”
“Well, today might be a first.”
He laughs nervously. “Seriously, I have to be home by three.”
“Uh-huh.” We’re at the front door now. I open it, close it again and wait for Ricky and Willa to pull out of the driveway. After I can no longer see Ricky’s Mercedes, I grab Camden by the hood of his sweatshirt.
“Where are we going?” he asks, following me to the bike shop. “Why are we in the bike shop? Roan.” He pauses, groaning. “We don’t have time to ride this morning.”
“Can you ride this one?” I motion to my Honda CRF 450. It’s too big for him, heavy and I doubt he can even pick the bike up. But… he’s been asking me for months to ride it.
“Seriously?” His eyes light up. “You’d let me ride your 450?”
I nod and hand him a helmet. “You’re gonna need this.”