[book 01 of the emotionally entangled series]
An attachment between two former best friends was something no one expected, especially from two polar opposites.
Owen Bowers was level-headed, imposing his influence wherever he went. With an unsympathe...
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When we got back, the anger in which my brother was holding in seemed to let loose as he threw off his jacket and growled in anger, muttering profanities. Alfonso stayed behind to sort out the dogs as I followed my brother's large steps.
"Dude, wait up!" I exclaimed, holding a hand out to him as he only releases a grunt in response. He was pretty pissed off by Liam, but all we talked about was what happened at that party and Brielle, which if I knew if he had a crush on her, would mean he was jealous, but that's stupid. He's a guy who doesn't love so why would he be so pent up. Maybe because we haven't reached any sort of agreement yet.
Alfonso was too busy to notice Owen was gone, but after the door slammed shut, his head turned to it before his sympathetic eyes settled on me. I only shook my head before out of the corner of my eyes, I saw the familiar sight of blonde locks of hair.
Brielle was wearing some denim shorts and a black tank top and she carried some books with her, labelled:
LEVEL THREE CHEMISTRY.
Dammit, I thought. No matter how many times I try, I still can't get the hang of the subject and Brielle's been so patient with how stupid I could be sometimes.
She had closed the gate, turning to just see Owen storming off before a confused look settled on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed together as she jogged her way over to me.
As I entered the gang compound, I saw Jaxon and Owen return from what I think was a mission. It must've gone pretty bad seeing as I've never seen Owen so pissed off. His shoulders were slumped slightly as he trudged off to his house.
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"Jaxon, wait, wait, wait!" I called as he turned around and waved, a small smile on his face. He seemed to look relieved and if anything, thankful that I was there. Well, I am a miracle worker when I need to be.
"Well look who it is," Alfonso cried, a grin on his face as he came up to me. He was a tall man with a classic case of bed hair all day every day unless he's out in which his hair is gelled back, but after coming back from who knows where his hair was scruffy, "how are you, kiddo?"
