𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐲'𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞

14 | 𝐷𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑉𝑖𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑦

Maybe telling him on Thanksgiving wasn't ideal.

"What are you doing here, Rhy?" he asked lowly, dryly, and his eyebrows were sewn tight. His tousled locks were every which way, and a distant conversation between a young girl and her father could be heard.

I sighed, chewing on my bottom lip, then stated, "my mom is throwing this Thanksgiving party and a whole bunch of my crazy relatives who I don't like are coming. My mom said I could invite somebody and because everybody celebrates Thanksgiving, I thought I could invite you?" I phrased, hurriedly speaking in one breath.

He arched a brow.

Shit.

"Are you assuming that because I told you I have no family I don't celebrate Thanksgiving?" he questioned.

"What? No--" I panicked. My hands raced to stop him from getting that thought, but he only laughed with a smug smile.

"Because you're absolutely right. I'm getting dressed now--" He disappeared behind the door before appearing again in the corner to see my slightly shocked expression. "Is turkey going to be the only thing stuffed today?"

"Well, my Grandma Edith is bringing stu--" My mouth fell open. "You dirty dog! Now, go get dressed!" I slapped my hand on his forearm and shoved him playfully into the direction of his house. He chortled to himself, inviting me in. 

"Hey," greeted the man, causing Victor to pivot back aground.

Victor beckoned a hand to me lazily. "Azariah," he introduced with half-interest. "I'm leaving today--"

"If that's okay," I smoothed over, the hopeful smile on my lips. I didn't want his 'dad' to hate me already, but to be honest, I saw Victor's whole demeanor change. If I saw him like this prior to him telling me about his family life, I may've just assumed it from the interaction.

His 'dad' looked either way between us, then smiled. I was expecting a very angry man, a bad father, and I don't know why, because when I looked at the balding man, he seemed genuinely excited. "Where are you guys going?"

"My house for Thanksgiving," I replied, I would've invited them, but Victor probably wouldn't have liked that so much. "We'll bring you back some leftovers, I'm sure we'll have plenty, if that's alright?" I offered and I saw a glint of joy in his eyes.

"That'd be fantastic, I'm glad you two are friends," he murmured.

"Friends with benefits," Victor concluded behind me.

What the fuck?

Mortification couldn't describe what I just heard him say. My hands were shaking with irritation, the distant sound of his 'sister' Bria asking what that meant.

Victor then walked out of the room to change while I waited in the aftermath of what he'd just said.When he walked out, dressed in black jeans, combat boots, a leather jacket and a black shirt, without the chains, we said our goodbyes and left.

"Did you seriously walk to my house?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied with a downcast in my tone. "Why did you do that? Back there?"

"It's all bullshit," he cursed, throwing a hand up when we stood by the hood of his jeep.

He looked hot--my eyes widened briefly--where the hell did that come from?

He continued on what he was saying as if my thought didn't interrupt him, which it didn't, but it could've? He could literally be a mind reader? I wouldn't be surprised.