Ugh.

Of course I already knew all that, but still. He didn’t need to just blurt it out like that. There was a hierarchy of attraction in bands regardless of what the members actually looked like: everyone liked the singer even if he looked like he ran a heroin ring; next were the guitar players, the drummers, the bass players and finally the keyboardists. It was like actors that weren’t handsome but women liked them anyway because they were famous.

“I haven’t seen him mess around with anybody, if that makes you feel any better,” he added. “But…”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” But he’d still hung out with that girl. A fact I had been trying to come to terms with for a week.

I told myself what I’d been telling myself since then: he wasn’t my boyfriend, he was my friend, and I needed to get over this possessive, jealous crap pronto. I was going to get over it. I would.

With another sigh I peered up at Mason who was still letting me lean into him and smiled reluctantly. “You really knew I was full of shit from the beginning?”

“You’ve been my best friend my whole life. Of course I know when something’s up your ass,” he stated.

That had me cracking a real grin. We had been best friends our entire lives; this beautiful, moronic boy-man who once had a gap between his teeth and didn’t hit a growth spurt until we were almost sixteen. How many things had we done for each other? More than I could ever count and that alone made my heart swell with affection. Most people didn’t have a single best friend, and I didn’t just have multiple ones—I even had some that would commit crimes for me. This guy happened to be one of them. Was he perfect? Absolutely not. Neither was I.

But who needed perfect when you had someone loyal, funny, with slight mental problems that knew you inside and out? I didn’t. “You know I love you, right?”

He put his hand on my head and ruffled my already messy hair. “Yeah, I know, Flabby.”

I smiled at him and he smiled back at me.

Then he messed with my hair some more. “If it makes you feel any better, your boobs are way nicer than that chick’s were.”

Was it rude? Of course it was, but I laughed anyway, and me laughing only made Mase do it too.

“What would I do without you?”

“Be bored to death,” he replied, tugging on my hair.

I crossed my eyes.

“I don’t like seeing you bummed, so cut it out. A week is long enough.”

If only he’d seen me right after my breakup. Plus, he’d already done who knows what to Brandon’s car in retaliation. “See? And Mandy used to say you didn’t care about anything.”

He frowned. “I forgot about her.”

“I just remember her telling me that she was going to kick my ass if I didn’t stop text messaging you.” Then I’d told her I’d been in Mason’s life before her and I’d be in it afterward, just to be a bitch.

He cracked up. “She hated your guts! I forgot about that!” He blew out a breath. “Most of my girlfriends—” for the record, he hadn’t had an official girlfriend in at least five years, “haven’t liked you, now that I think about it.”

Of course they hadn’t. Most of them had always thought there was more to our friendship than what there was. It wasn’t like I could blame them, but I always tried to be extra respectful and not pinch his butt cheeks out of anger when he was dating someone.

“Remember Teresa Martinez back in junior year? I broke up with her because she said you were annoying.”

I blinked, knowing exactly whom he was referring to. She’d been one of his girlfriends that hadn’t gotten on my nerves. That fake bitch. While I realized it was dumb to be offended over a comment someone had made ten years ago, I couldn’t help but get a little grumpy about it. “She said that to you?”