Page 36 of Finding Our Reality

“Okay.”

Then I hold her gaze a split second too long. And because she’s My Lulu, she doesn’t turn away.

***

I’m standing in front of the station, watching the cars drive out of the parking lot, when Lulu pushes open the door. Sashaying her hips left and right, she struts over to me. I’m too stunned to even speak. My eyes drop to the pavement and start their slow perusal up her body. She’s been in black ankle pants all day long. Except now, she’s in a short black skirt. Still long enough to be considered business attire, but when you have legs as long as Lulu’s, it doesn’t take much for something to be considered short. And her legs are completely bare.

They look even better than I remember.

Firm and lean.

Her skin always has a soft glow to it, even in the wintertime, and it makes her whole body look like a butter toffee treat, ready to be eaten. She watches me checking her out. I don’t even hide what I’m doing; I’m not ashamed one bit. She tries not to blush, but pink tints her face regardless.

As much as her bare legs make my dick super happy, it makes my brain and heart a little pissed off to know that my idiot brother is going to see her this way. It’s cold out today, no Alabama winter making us sweat. Why did she change?

“What happened? Did you spill something on you?”

She looks down at her blouse, tugging it out to inspect it. “Why? Do I have something on me?”

“No, it’s just… you changed clothes.”

She props a leg in front of me. “Yeah. Trash always made a big deal about my legs, so I changed into a skirt.”

Rage blinds me. Makes me stupid. It makes me say asinine things. “So, you’re whoring yourself out for him?”

Wrong thing to say. I am a total and complete asshole.

Lulu agrees.

Her eyes widen in shock and her mouth falls open. The shock wears off in about two seconds and she hauls back, slapping me across the face. The noise rings out across the parking lot. My face tingles with burning heat and my jaw buzzes with pins and needles.

I completely and totally deserved that.

She spins away, shaking the stinging pain from her fingers. Stomping across the parking lot, she comes to a complete stop when she realizes that she has no idea what I drive. I quickly hit the unlock button on my key fob several times. My taillights flash and my horn honks. Lulu doesn’t say anything. She just makes her way to the large black pickup and climbs into the passenger’s seat. My truck is pretty damn tall, so I can only imagine what body parts she flashed when trying to climb in.

A couple of guys pour out of the station door, waving to me. I really hope they don’t see the red mark of a palm print on my face. Then again, I deserve to be embarrassed by that. I can’t believe I basically called My Lulu a whore.

No wonder she hates me.

Shaking my head in disgust, I climb in the driver’s side. Instead of starting the engine, I lean my head back against the supple leather, close my eyes, and take several deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. Eventually, I lean up. She’s not looking at me. She’s just staring out the passenger-side window, rubbing the hem of her skirt between her fingers. In the enclosed space, her coconut and mint smell invades my nostrils, making me think all sorts of things I shouldn’t be thinking. “I’m sorry, Lulu. That was an absolutely horrible thing to say. I don’t even know where that came from.”

She doesn’t make any noise.

I sigh. “That’s a lie. I know where it comes from. You’re right. Trash has always had a thing for you. For your legs. For your body. And I can’t stand the thought of him looking at you. I know that’s none of my concern anymore—that I have no right to be concerned by that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t think about it.”

“Can we just go, please? We’re gonna be late.”

Late to see my druggie, pathetic, worthless, felon of a brother? We can’t have that, can we?

Chapter 15

ELLA

The trailer hasn’t changed much—except for looking shittier now than it did twelve years ago. At least some of the vegetation has grown, giving it a little bit more of a residential appearance. The ride out here was tense, to say the least, especially when we passed the road that leads to the old homestead.

I did my best to keep my memories locked up tight, but some still seeped out, like a leaky faucet that drips water no matter how many times you tighten it. Visions of floating water lanterns, blue-flamed fire, and mismatched patio furniture tugged at my heartstrings.

Reading books together late in the night underneath the shelter of our tent. Splashing in the cool creek water beneath the bright afternoon sun. Screaming his name into the night sky as I came all over his cock.

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