Page 5 of Only Ever You

At the thought of that, I roll my eyes. I think I’m more mature than he is most times.

“Fine!” Lucas yells. “Hurry up, Pippa.”

I put my book on my lap. “Hurry up? Where are we going?”

“The Millers. Get your arse in the car.”

“Lucas. That’s no way to talk to your sister,” Dad yells.

I let out a sigh. “Okay. Whatever. I’m coming.”

After grabbing my backpack off the floor, I drop the book I’m reading into it. I choose another couple of books, because God only knows how long a visit to the Millers will take, and place them into the bag before slinging it over my shoulder.

I stalk out to his car and drop my bag on the floor as I slide into the passenger seat.

He slams the driver’s door, and without saying a word, pushes the key into the ignition and starts the car.

“You know, once they’re gone you can just bring me home.”

He snorts. “Dad’ll kick my arse if I do that.”

“They don’t need to know.”

As he pulls out of the driveway, he lets out a loud sigh. “Pippa, you’re my responsibility whether I like it or not. It’ll just be for a few hours, and you can stay in the car if you want.”

I screw up my face. “The hot car that smells of boy germs?”

“You can’t come inside with us. This is going to be the most boring afternoon of your life.”

“Just as well I brought books with me then.”

He glares at me. “If you come inside, I’ll tell Deacon you’ve got a massive crush on him.”

My cheeks burn hot. “Why are you so mean?”

“I see you doodling hearts on your books. It’s so pathetic. You’re twelve. He’ll never be interested in you.”

I cross my arms. “You’re such a dick.”

The rest of the ride is silent. Lucas ignores me right up until we pull into the driveway.

I’m more than a little in love with the Miller house. Unlike our single-level, three-bedroom humble home, theirs is a white two-storey house with verandahs running around both levels. It reminds me of a wedding cake.

Mrs Miller’s passionate about her garden, and with the white picket fence along the front of the yard, it’s my fairytale house.

I don’t come here very often—Deacon’s usually at our place. It’s not like my nineteen-year-old brother and his best friend invite me to hang out with them.

Sliding out of the passenger seat, I grab my bag and stalk Lucas to the door. I’d much rather be at home, curled up on the couch reading, but my parents won’t let me stay home alone for at least another two years.

Deacon’s mum opens the door. She flicks a glance at me, her lips clamped in a straight line. “Your sister’s with you?”

He shrugs. “Mum and Dad have gone away to bond or some shit. I promised to look after her. Didn’t think I could just leave her at home.”

She nods. “I understand.” Turning to me, she smiles. “Pippa, how about I grab you a cool drink and a snack?”

I give her at tight smile. “That would be great, thank you. I’m just planning on reading.”

Her smile widens. “The swing seat is perfect for that. I’m often out here with my nose in a good book.”

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