Page 56 of Always You

It’s when I realized I’d rather spend my night with Charlotte. Making sure she’s okay, knowing a seventeen-year-old girlshouldn’t have to take care of her mother all by herself. When I do wear my father’s tux someday, I want Charlotte on my arm. Even if that means I’m never going to wear it.

“Really?”

“Nah.”

“That’s a shame. I would’ve loved seeing you in a tux,” she muses, to my surprise.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.” Her head falls against my arm.

“Well, maybe I’ll put it on one day. Just for you.”

“I’m holding you to that one. Don’t tell the flavor of the month, though. It’ll be awkward.” I know her well enough to know she’s rolling her eyes, and a scoff leaves my lips before I softly press them against her hair once more. The intoxicating hint of her flowery shampoo makes me want to stay there for the rest of the night.

“Any flavor of the month will have to deal with my favorite flavor, anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t tell them that either,” she says, a smile audible in her voice.

“Shut up. Will your mom notice if we get out of here?”

“I wish. We could put up a Fourth of July fireworks show, and she will still be sleeping.”

I brush my hand through her hair, knowing I made the right choice by coming here. Cheering up my girl is way more important than some stupid high school dance.

“You hungry, babe?”

“Always.”

“Alright, let’s grab something to eat.”

19

“Damn, that Jensen guy got some serious skills. I’d be surprised if he’s not drafted soon.” Jason takes another bite of his burrito, his eyes set on the TV.

“Are you kidding me? I heard the Knights already have their claws into him. He’ll be in the NHL before he graduates from California State.” I settle deeper into the velvet blue couch, relaxing my shoulders while rubbing my hand over my stomach. “Damn, I’m stuffed.”

Jason glances over his shoulder, then throws a fist into my side that has me grunting. “It shows. When’s your next fight? You’re getting fat, buddy.”

“Shut up, dickhead. You wish you were as ripped as me.”

“And dodging fists for some cash? No, thanks.” He holds his face with fluttering lashes. “I’m too pretty.”

“As pretty as a doorknob.” We both rear our heads over the back of the couch with a glare. Jacob stands in the kitchen, an annoying grin spreading his cheeks.

Being a college quarterback, his frame is broad and his arrogance through the roof. Pale blue eyes glint at us from above his water bottle as he takes a sip.

He looks like a fucking douchebag.

“Shut up, Jake.” Jason quickly turns with a clenching jaw, not wanting to give his big brother even an ounce of energy. But I can’t resist.

I hang my arms over the couch, twisting my body to face him better. “How are you doing, Jake? Sorry, you didn’t make the play-offs.”

His jaw ticks with a dark expression washing over him, knowing I’ve hit a nerve. “Shut up, you pathetic fighter boy. I’ll talk to you when I’m in the NFL and you’re still doing underground fights.” Jacob runs a hand through his short blonde hair. It’s eerie how much he looks like Jason, even though they are nothing alike.

My chest elevates with a loud laugh, daringly holding his gaze. “If you keep playing like that, you’ll be lucky if you can get a janitor job at the Raleigh Rebels.”

With a death stare, he runs his tongue along his pearly white teeth.

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