Grabbing a hand towel and drying off, I ruffled his hair before gently steering the frames of his glasses back up to the bridge of his nose. "Come on. Let's do something before the prick gets back."

"Eyes," he whined, stamping his foot. "Don't be mean."

I enjoyed the time we spent together, just he and I. It was a luxury that I rarely gained anymore. Blake was always there like a bad smell, and I fucking resented the way he'd steal my thunder whenever he was around; Oz used to look at me like I was responsible for the stars and moon in the night sky, but now it...