“Hey, sorry, I just need to borrow Cherry real quick,” she said, dragging Cherisse away until they stood in front of some fancy white wrought iron benches. Remi appeared to be lecturing Cherisse. Cherisse’s arms were folded, body language screaming defiance. She didn’t seem to like whatever Remi was saying and kept shooting daggers his way. He couldn’t resist; he gave a little finger wave that had her jerking her eyes back to Remi, who shook her head and looked to the sky as if asking for patience.

“Why the heck are you so willing to go on a date with her anyway?” Keiran asked.

“Her mother seemed to think we’d be compatible.” Tyler rubbed his annoyingly square jaw.

“Dude, you being serious right now?” What sort of reason was that? He couldn’t begin to gauge what Mrs. Gooding was basing this supposed compatibility on, but at the very least, Tyler should want to date Cherisse for more than that. They were both good-looking people, not that Tyler was Keiran’s type. Cherisse, however...

He’d snuck looks at her in her shorty shorts lots of times when they’d been teens.

He remembered her scowling at him from behind her gate whenever he cycled by with Scott, who always threw a big wave and smile her way. Somehow, she’d become friends with Scott, who didn’t even live in the area but visited Keiran for sleepovers and football games in the savannah so much it was like he was an honorary part of the community. He’d spent a lot of time at Keiran’s when their school closed for holidays. Scott’s step-dad had made his home life hell, so Keiran’d been happy to offer up a little haven for his friend. But then, Scott and Cherisse had gotten friendly. Keiran, however? Not at all. Their blood didn’t take to each other.

But he’d still checked her out. His entire guys’ crew gaped at Cherisse and Ava when they’d moved into the area. Even living two streets away at the time, word had reached him about the sisters.

Cherisse had all that wavy hair that, if asked, he’d say was brown, just brown, but that would be a damn lie. In the sun, her hair was a riot of browns, reds, and golds. The red was new. He remembered back when she wore her hair natural, how it had gone from kind of curly when still sort of wet and then poofed up into this fro that glinted golden in the sun when fully dry. Like a halo, except to him, Cherisse had been no angel. Did angels glare at people the way she had at him?

Her eyes were golden-brown, ringed with a darker brown that oddly enough reminded him of a tiger’s eye stone he’d found once. Her lush mouth with its fuller bottom lip was reason enough too. If Tyler said he was eager to date Cherisse because he found her attractive, now that would make sense.

“Her mother thinking you’re both a good match shouldn’t be the only reason.” Keiran risked another look over at Cherisse and Remi. They sat side by side on the bench, Cherisse’s skirt rucked up to a little above her knees, and Keiran’s traitorous eyes drank in her legs.