Page 7 of Mine to Take

“Plus, your brother is a total bonehead.”

I loop my arm through hers and draw her curvy body closer before adding in a cajoling voice, “Just think, if you play your cards right, he could be your bonehead.”

“Hard pass. I’m focused on finishing up college and getting the hell out of here. In that order.” There’s a pause before she mutters, “And Marcus left a lasting impression. One that has been singed into my soul.”

It’s not often that my friend dredges up her ex.

“That was years ago,” I say carefully.

I hate that he hurt her so much. Holland has always been a master at keeping her emotions tightly contained. I can hardly blame her with the way she grew up. I’m just glad our house was something of a refuge for her.

She jerks her shoulders and brushes off the comment. “Once burned, twice shy and all that bullshit.”

“I’m just saying that you should be open to the idea of love if it presents itself. That’s all.”

“Maybe after college, once I’m a boss-ass bitch,” she concedes.

That reluctantly given admittance feels like a major victory.

When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I slip my hand inside and fish it out before glancing at the screen.

“Let me guess—it’s Becks.”

Even though I try not to let it affect me, everything inside me deflates. “Yup.”

“She wants to make sure you’ve taken all the necessary precautions this evening.”

“Right again.”

“You realize that woman would put you in a bubble if it were socially acceptable?”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” I grumble.

A smile trembles on her lips. “Oh, I’m pretty sure she’s already investigated it. Must not have been feasible.”

I hate to admit just how spot-on Holland is in her assessment of the situation.

“How hilarious would it be if you showed up in a biohazard suit?”

I glare. “She’d be thrilled.”

“Yeah, probably. The woman is a total nutjob.” She glances at me. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

“I’m aware,” I say with a reluctant sigh.

We follow the swiftly moving crowd until finding our seat section. Even though I’m a student at Western, the only time I attend their games is when my brother’s team is playing the Wildcats. My twin has been involved in the sport since kindergarten, so I grew up watching it. More times than not, Holland was dragged along to keep me company.

As soon as we enter the arena, I glance around, searching for my parents. Mom pops to her feet and waves erratically. The people surrounding her swivel in her direction and stare. Somehow, they managed to secure amazing seats right up against the plexiglass.

“Oh good, there’s Becks,” Holland mutters. “I’ve missed her. What’s it been? Seventy-two hours since she stopped by our place to do a deep clean?”

I shake my head at the nickname. “You know she hates when you call her that, right?’

She flashes a grin. “Why do you think I do it?”

Even though I shake my head, I can’t help but be amused by my bestie. She does and says things that I would never dream of.

It would be difficult not to admire her spunk.

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