Come here, Marvin,” Old Man chuckled, swinging his cane at one of the goats. “I gots you some Natty Light.”

“What the hell is he doing?” Trevor asked before flopping down in one of the lawn chairs.

“He gets his goats drunk.”

“He’s crazy.”

“He’s funny.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took a sip of beer and dug it out, staring at the unknown number before pressing the phone to my ear. “Yeah?”

“Is this Noah?”

“Yeah.” I took another sip of beer while watching Old Man dump the Natty Light into on overturned Frisbee for Marvin.

“This is Brice Tanner, I saw a video of you covering one of my songs and I—”

Click. I hung the phone up. I didn’t have time for that shit.

“What was that about?” Trevor asked.

“Some dipshit trying to be an ass over one of those video’s Daisy keeps posting of me.” I groaned. “I told her to stop doing that shit.”

“Ah, she thinks you’ll be another Biebs.” He laughed. “That’s why she’s so gung-ho about beddin’ you. You’re her claim to fame, her ticket outta Rockford.” He turned his beer up and shook his head. “You ever fuck her; you better make sure you use a condom, or you’ll end up with a kid.”

“I’m not sleeping with her.” The thought disgusted me.

“Right, right. You’re all up on the preacher’s daughter.”

“I’m not all up on her.”

I could feel him staring at me and when I turned to look at him, his lip was slightly curled. “You got issues.”

“Why? Because I’m not trying to screw her?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s not always about sex, fuckface.”

“You know why Max Summers had her cornered the other night in the bar?”

I didn’t care why, but he told me anyway. “She dated him. She’s not as innocent as you think, bro.” He tipped his beer back again, smirking.

My jaw set. That bothered me. “Why would a girl like her date a guy like that?”

Trevor shrugged. “Girls like the bad guys, Noah. You know that.”

“He tried to fuck an unconscious seventeen-year-old girl that night at Britney’s party.” I stared at him.

“And you beat his ass for it.”

I chugged the rest of my beer and leaned back in the lawn chair, staring over the fence. Why would she date a guy like Max? “I don’t get it.”

“For what it’s worth, not everyone knew what a piece of crap Max was. Hell, most people still don’t.”

My phone rang again. Same unknown number. I answered it and immediately hung up. “Look, man, you like her—you like her. It’s just girls like her, they want a relationship. They want commitment, blah fucking blah.”

The thing was, with a girl like that, I didn’t mind the blah fucking blah.

The sun slowly sank below the horizon. The crickets had started early that evening, and the air was unusually pleasant for a mid-summer day.

I finished rinsing the paint from the paintbrush then laid it on the old brick retaining wall to dry.

“You out, son?” John called, leaning over the fence and placing his boot on the bottom rung.

“Yeah, guess so.”

“Well, thank you for all your hard work. It’s been a mighty help to me and Bo.”

“Glad to hear it.” I wiped my hands on the leg of my jeans and had started to my truck when the front door creaked open. Hannah stepped onto the porch in a pair of running shorts and a tank, shaking out a tablecloth. She smiled when I stopped at the bottom step of the porch. “You look cute.”

“Thanks.” She looked over my shoulder at her dad’s shop. “The whitewash looks good.”

“Appreciate that.” I swatted at a gnat. “What are you doing tonight?”

“Nothing.”

Grinning, I took a step back. “Alright, I’ll be back around eight to pick you up.”

“What?”

“You said you weren’t doing anything.”

“Well, I—”

“Nope, you want to get outta doing something with me, you’ll learn to lie when I ask you what you’re doing. A nothings always a ‘something with you’ as far as I’m concerned.”

A smirk worked over her lips while she folded the tablecloth over her arm. “Wow, noted.” She laughed.

“Eight.” I pointed at her.

“I guess so,” she said before slipping back inside.