Page 33 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
“No.”
He studied me. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I wouldn’t do that.” My voice dropped. “No matter how much she hates me.”
“Then why does she think that?”
My gaze settled on the bar top. The wood was scratched and worn, marked by years of elbows and spilled drinks. It was imperfect in a way that felt lived-in.
“I gave her a list of rules,” I said. “Because if I don’t, and things go wrong, there are far worse consequences than she realizes.”
Josh knew the basics of the shelter grant I was applying for. It was our fifth attempt and Theo and I were the closest we’d come to getting it.
He tilted his head. “I get that. But you still need to give and take here, buddy.”
I swallowed.
Behind Josh, a group of people cheered as an axe hit its target. Apparently, my body hadn’t gotten the message that this was supposed to be fun. The crowd cheered and my nervous system filed a complaint. It was the overlap that got me—the thwack of metal, the burst of voices, the bar noise underneath it all—too many sources of input registering at once.
Josh reached under the bar and handed me a pair of foam earplugs.
I stared at them.
Josh shrugged. “You hate it when it’s busy. Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t exist in public or get sappy on me.”
My throat tightened. “Thanks, asshole,” I muttered, taking them.
I inserted them and the room immediately softened, dulling sharp edges and voices into something manageable.
I could breathe again.
Josh leaned closer. “So. Delaney.”
I glared at him, wishing he’d drop it.
He smiled like he lived for my suffering. “Talk to me.”
“I have concerns,” I said flatly.
Josh made a face. “Concern is a weird way to describe having a crush.”
“I do not have a—” I stopped.
That wasn’t what this was.
Was it?
My body flashed to yesterday—Delaney’s warmth against my chest, the way she’d fit perfectly in my arms like she’d always belonged there, the scent of lavender that should have bothered me but somehow didn’t.
I swallowed hard.
No.Absolutely not. There was no universe in which I had a crush on Delaney.
We hated each other.
Before he could push again, the front door opened, and my brother Wyatt walked in with Theo and our cousin Adam. Adam looked like he’d just rolled out from under a car he’d been working on in his shop. Ripped jeans, T-shirt, light brown hair mussed from probably running his hands through it a hundred times.
Wyatt nodded at me. “Hey.”
