Shift

Okay. This has to stop.

With an abrupt stop, I spin on my heels and shove my hands into my jeans pockets so I can form fists without Tommy commenting on them.

“Yeah, Tommy. She’s like family. And she deserved something special from one of her oldest friends for her birthday. Hell, girl deserves diamond earrings and designer clothes and all that shit, but I can’t give that to her. I got nothin’, Tommy. I barely got this car. So yeah, I grabbed a bunch of metal at the scrap yard during work one night and made something out of it, because I literally couldn’t give one of my oldest friends anything else. But thanks, Tommy. Thanks for shitting on it. Can we go sell this thing now so I can pay for a windshield?”

I grab the part from his hands and meet his eyes before leaving him several steps behind on my way into Earl’s. If I looked at him any longer, he would have called my bluff. That’s what Tommy does. He reads people. Reads situations and options and always makes the right choices. He’d see through my bullshit if I gave him the chance. Thing is, though, I’ve been buying into my own bullshit too. I spent weeks making that wind chime. And if we weren’t dancing in a driveway in front of her brother, maybe—maybe—things would have gotten carried away. I’ve thought about it. But I always remind myself that Ha

ah Judge is family, and nothing else. And me? I’m Colt Bridges’ bloodline. Nothing good could ever come from that.