"So, this is one of those, I'm damned if I do and I'm damned if I don’t situations?"

"Exactly." I nodded in agreement. "Good luck with that, by the way. If you live to see the other side, tell me how you did it. You know –" I paused to shrug, "in case I ever fuck up and call the girl I love the wrong name."

"That's exactly it!" he spat, throwing his hands up. "Why would I even think about anyone else when I'm in…" His brows furrowed. "Fuck!"

I grinned. "Go on."

"I love her." He looked comically horrified. "I love her?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "You do."

"Jesus Christ, I'm in love with her," he breathed, eyes widening. "Holy fuck, I'm in love with her, Daryl. I love her."

"Yeah, dude, I know."

He gaped at me. "You know?"

"Hell fucking yes, I know." I snorted. "Everyone knows. We've been waiting on you to get with the program for a while now." The moment Mercedes James walked her butt into his house way back in the summer, it had been as plain as the nose on Rourke's face that he was rattled by her. Roll on four months later, and everyone and their mother could see that my friend was sunk.

"What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Rourke demanded, looking terrified now. "I don’t want this, man."

"You don’t get a choice," I told him, unable to hide my smirk. "When that special girl comes knocking, your balls start dropping."

"I love her," he whispered to himself and then shook his head. "Holy fuck." Lunging forward, he swiped a glass off the table and chugged it back before repeating the task over and over. "This is the suckiest newsflash ever."

I laughed. "FYI? She loves you too, bro."

"Why?" His eyes locked on mine. "Did she say something to Molly?"

"She didn’t have to," I replied. "It's written all over her face every time she looks at you, Rourke. The girl is head over heels in love with you."

Rourke went right back to staring at Mercedes like the lovesick fool he was before finally jumping to his feet with a determined look etched on his face. "Come on. Let's go."

"And where exactly are we going?" I drawled, climbing to my feet.

Fuck it, it didn't even matter what the answer was.

I would follow the douche pretty much anywhere and it was the same for him.

Besides, I couldn't have Rourke getting thrown out of his own damn homecoming because of some snot nosed punk from Jefferson.

With the DJ throwing out some major soppy vibes, I followed my friend onto the dance floor.

The moment Rourke reached his intended target, he was on her like it was mating season at the fucking zoo.

Jesus.

27 Molly

One minute, Mercy and I were bouncing around like idiots to The Weekend's Blinding Lights, and the next, she was being circled by her hungry looking stepbrother.