Breckin is holding the passenger door open with a huge grin on his face. “Hope you don’t mind a third wheel today. My second best friend in the whole wide world invited me to come.”
I reach the passenger door, confused as hell. Breckin waits until I climb inside, then he opens the back door and climbs into the back seat. I lean forward and tilt my head toward Holder who’s laughing like he just revealed the punch line to a really funny joke. A joke I’m not a part of.
“Would one of you like to explain what the hell is going on?” I say.
Holder grabs my hand and pulls it to his mouth, giving my knuckles a kiss. “I’ll let Breckin explain. He talks faster, anyway.”
I spin around in my seat as Holder begins backing out of the driveway. I arch an eyebrow at Breckin.
He shoots me a clear look of guilt. “I’ve sort of had a double alliance going on for about two weeks now,” he says sheepishly.
I shake my head, attempting to wrap this confession around my mind. I glance back and forth between them. “Two weeks? You guys have been talking for two weeks? Without me? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was sworn to secrecy,” Breckin says.
“But…”
“Turn around and put your seatbelt on,” Holder says to me.
I glare at him. “In a minute. I’m trying to figure out why you made up with Breckin two weeks ago, but it took you until today to make up with me.”
He glances at me, then looks back at the road in front of him. “Breckin deserved an apology. I acted like an asshole that day.”
“And I didn’t deserve one?”
He looks at me dead on this time. “No,” he says firmly, turning his gaze back to the road. “You don’t deserve words, Sky. You deserve actions.”
I stare at him, wondering how long he stayed up at night forming that perfect sentence. He glances back at me and lets go of my hand, then tickles the top of my thigh. “Quit being so serious. Your boyfriend and your very best friend in the whole wide world are taking you to a flea market.”
I laugh and slap his hand away. “How can I feel happy when my alliance has been infiltrated? You two have a hell of a lot of kissing up to do today.”
Breckin rests his chin on the top of my headrest and looks down at me. “I think I’ve been the one that suffered the most out of this ordeal. Your boyfriend has ruined my last two Friday nights in a row, moping and whining about how much he wants you but how he doesn’t want to let you down and blah, blah, blah. It’s been rough not complaining to you about him at lunch every day.”
Holder darts his head back toward Breckin. “Well, now you two can complain about me all you want. Life is back to how it should be.” He slides his fingers through mine and squeezes my hand. My skin tingles and I’m not sure if it’s from his touch or his words.
“I still think I deserve an ass kissing today,” I say to both of them. “I want you to buy me whatever I want at the flea market. I don’t care how much it costs or how big and heavy it is.”
“Damn straight,” Breckin says.
I groan. “Oh, God, Holder’s already rubbing off on you.”
Breckin laughs and reaches over the seat to grab my hands, then pulls me toward him. “He must be, because I really want to cuddle you in the backseat right now,” Breckin says.
“I’m not rubbing off on you that much if you think I’d only be cuddling her in a backseat,” Holder says. He slaps me on the ass right before I fall into the back with Breckin.
“You can’t be serious,” Holder says, holding the saltshaker I just placed in his hands. We’ve been walking around the flea market for over an hour now and I’m sticking to my plan. They’re buying me whatever the hell I want. I have a betrayal to overcome and it’s going to take a lot of random purchases before I feel better.
I look at the figurine in his hands and nod. “You’re right. I should get the matching set.” I pick up the peppershaker and hand it to him. They aren’t anything I would ever want. I’m not sure how they could be anything anyone would ever want. Who makes ceramic salt and peppershakers fashioned out of small and large intestines?
“I bet they belonged to a doctor,” Breckin says, admiring them with me. I reach into Holder’s pocket and pull out his wallet, then turn to the man behind the table. “How much?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says, unenthusiastically. “A dollar each?”