I had no idea if my relationship with my old friends was repairable; frankly, I didn’t want it to be. Maybe it was better to be a loner.

My nerves were high as Tuesday rolled around, and I distractedly got through work, knowing Vincent would be showing up soon. I still had no idea what this ‘task’ was, but I’m sure Vince had something unexpected up his sleeve.

It was just after noon when his blue WRX pulled up in front of my house. I’d been pacing around, trying to convince myself I wasn’t nervous — why the hell would I be nervous? It was Vincent Volkov, the guy who’d always been a class clown, who used to get invited to the popular kids’ parties because they knew he’d have drugs to sell. He didn’t have the same dark, vicious aura that the others did, but there was something about him that severely disarmed me. His teasing nature meant people usually underestimated him, including me.

I had a better idea of what he was capable of now, but I still didn’t know what to expect. As I watched him step out of the car through the kitchen window, my heart sped up and I rubbed my sweating palms on my jeans.

God, he was hot. Way sexier than he had any damn right to be. He strode up to the front door with Ray-Bans on, his long hair loose and wavy around his face, wearing tight acid-wash jeans and an oversized tie-dye shirt with a flaming skull on it. The colors clashed, but it weirdly worked for him.

Anything weird worked with Vincent.

I was already on my way to the door before he rang the bell. When I answered it, he was lighting up a joint dangling from his lips.

Had he lost his mind? He was smoking here, in the middle of the day, in this neighborhood?

“Are you really smoking weed on my front porch?” I said, completely incredulous.

He pulled the joint from his lips, blowing the smoke away over his shoulder. “Damn right, baby. Want a hit?”

I wasn’t going to think too deeply about the way him calling me baby made me feel. I was going to ignore the fact that it brought my heart stuttering to a stop before it flew off again at a gallop.

I shook my head at his offer, and grabbed my bag from its hook, locking the door behind me as I stepped outside. “Nope, thanks, but I’m not trying to go through the rest of my day paranoid.”

“Paranoid?” He blew a loud raspberry, wrapping his arm around my waist after I’d locked the front door. “What do you have to be paranoid about? I’m with you. I’ll make sure you don’t go running off naked into the woods.” He lifted his eyebrows suggestively. “At least not without me.”