When Claire’s door opened once again, she let out a groan of annoyance, “Do none of you fuckers know how to knock?”
"And here I thought I was special, and I didn't need to knock," a boy said as he walked in. He was handsome, tall with brown skin and curly dark hair with brown eyes. He was wearing a purple sweater with white jeans and white socks, and he had dimples when he smiled, Lyric noted.
“No, Vic, you ain't special, so f*****g knock."
His eyes landed on Lyric. "He's cute, and he is?"
"Creed, we're going home, and Vic, go find Elena; she's coming. Lyric, let's go because, frankly, I don't think you're safe here," Roland said dryly as he stared at his brother.
"He's not safe at yours. You have a Creed," Chris grumbled.
"Creed is going out with friends," Creed replied, speaking
