Chapter 9

"Wait, where are we going?"

I figured out our trek back to the house would take a while, but I never imagined Wilder taking me through the middle of nowhere. He grabs my hand, pulling me down a small sidewalk and up several flights of stairs.

"Wilder," I breathe a little too heavily. "Where the hell are we goi—"

The silent answer leaves me speechless when he opens the door to a roofto, exposing nearly all of Los Angeles before my eyes. Unfortunately, I don't get the chance to take in and admire the view because Wilder has run over to climb on the rooftop barrier and is slowly walking—one foot in front of the other—along the dangerous edge.

"Declan fucking Wilder!" I rush towards him, willing him not to fall, as if I can control whether or not he goes tumbling off the rooftop. "Get the hell down from there."

My heart catches in my throat, and my stomach is already twisted in knots when he pretends to stumble off the side before jumping off directly in front of me.

"I always thought my middle name was Ambrose, but Declan fucking Wilder has a nice ring to it."

I want to knee him in the balls for scaring the shit out of me, but I settle for a quick backhand to his abdomen. "What if you fell, you fucking idiot? Don't do that again! Promise!"

He turns like he's going to climb back up, but when I grab his arm, he leans against the wall in front of us. "I promise." He motions towards the view in front of us. "This is why I brought you up here."

The late September moon is shining brightly above the twinkling bustle of Los Angeles. Different colored lights twinkle like stars from the windows of different buildings against the dark night. We're far enough away to hear LA's night life roaring as a monotonous buzz. Nothing specific. Just people living their lives beneath the lights.

"I know it's not the same as real stars, but…" He trails off.

I don't know if it's just the fact that he listened to me or pms or the suppressed child spilling over, but something possesses me. I take three steps, throwing myself into his arms. He's slightly stunned for a split second, but he quickly envelops me, resting his chin on my head.

"It's still beautiful." I mumble from my new position just above his chest.

I've only been here for like a month, but maybe living in Los Angeles isn't too bad, especially with a best friend like Wilder.

"You wanna know something?" I ask, pulling back to look at him.

"What?"

"I expected to hate you when I first met you. Now, you guys have become like the only people in LA that I like."

"Yeah, that's 'cause you're a fucking work-a-holic, and you would rather eat chips and watch Netflix in your sweatpants than actually go out and meet anyone."

He's only teasing, but when I look up at him with a disgusted look on my face, he retracts a little, defending himself.

"Hey, hey. I actually have a lot of friends here, and I still choose to hang out with you. So, wipe that bitchy look off of your face."

Just a couple of seconds after it starts to feel awkward, I pull away, leaning back against the railing, admiring the glowing lights before my eyes.

"Okay, loser. Let's go before our food is cold." He says, breaking the silence, interrupting for the last time tonight. .

I take off, running quickly down the stairs. "I'm waiting on you, asshole. I told you I was starving."

When we reach the house, Tyler and Chris already have everything set on the table, ready to eat and smelling divine.

"That was almost perfect! We just got back like a minute ago."

I don't think any of us realized how hungry we were until we're all shoving burgers down like a last meal, talking with our mouths full.

"Next time, we go to the mall, I'm going to need to actually buy some new clothes. I don't know that my wardrobe is going to cut it here."

"Well, let's go tomorrow." Chris says excitedly.

"I think you're forgetting that I actually have a job with specific hours."

"Shit, right." He mumbles.

I can't blame him for forgetting that I'm entirely and utterly normal compared to them. Hell, when I'm around them, sometimes even I forget that I have a normal job. They have this addictive charm that makes you feel like you're really someone, ya know?

They're also a completely different breed when it comes to shopping, too. I think they could out shop me, and I am a master at buying shoes to avoid my problems.

"You guys are a terrible influence on me. I don't think we should be using retail therapy as a life coping mechanism." I laugh.

"Hey, new shoes can solve anything." Wilder interrupts.

"You're not wrong, but you're not helping." I roll my eyes. "I should probably get home, so I actually show up on time for work in the morning."

After a quick goodbye, I grab my stuff and head towards the door.

But I can't leave just yet.

I turn to face the three of them behind me. "Wait, where's my hug?"

Big smiles break out across each of their faces as they attack me by the door. That's all I needed to end my perfect day.

Just before I climb into bed, my phone lights up beside me.

Wilder: Same time next week?

MK: I wish. I have to work overtime Sunday. Saturday?

Wilder: Saturdays are for the boys.

MK: I thought I was one of the boys, douchebag.

Wilder: No dick = not one of the boys

Unless you're hiding something from me?

MK: If I did, you'd know. (Insert winky emoji)

I literally can't help but smile and roll my eyes. I swear, every thought that comes into his head has to come out of his mouth. No filter, whatsoever.

Wilder: How about food after work one day?

MK: We'll see, but this time, it's on me.

Wilder: Bet.

And then, there I am smiling at his texts again.

Yeah, you'd know all about bets, wouldn't you, Declan Wilder