Page 12 of Might as Well

Sounds messy, but he seems confident it’s resolved. We fall into another lull.

“So, your brother.”

I wait for Zane to say more, but he doesn’t. “What about him?” I ask. If only he wasn’t part of the conversation at all. My brother drains me mentally and emotionally. The thought of discussing him with Zane darkens my mood and brings the faint throb of my impending migraine closer to the forefront of my mind.

“I was under the impression you basically had no family left,” he says gingerly.

He has me there. I may have exaggerated things about my family, but that’s because implying my parents are dead and who’s left has abandoned me is better than the truth. With a deep breath, I respond to him. “I might as well not. Graham hates me. I’ve been taking care of him since he was fifteen; he’s twenty now. I think losing my grandma was the last straw. He did a one-eighty and has been nasty toward me ever since.”

The line goes quiet and I have a feeling Zane wants to ask more, or give his opinion. He doesn’t, thankfully.

“Hey, that reminds me. There is a Halloween party when I come back. Do you want to go with me?” he asks. “The captain throws it every year.”

“My brother reminds you of Halloween?” I ask skeptically, knowing that can’t be the case.

“No,” he confirms, “but I’m trying not to make assumptions and say something that’s none of my business. A change of subject seemed like a good idea.”

I appreciate his honesty and decide to move on with the change in subject as well. “So, it’s with your teammates? Would I have to dress up?”

“Yes, and yes.”

I pause and then ask, “Do they know about me?”

“Yes.”

When Zane doesn’t elaborate, I can’t help but take it as a bad sign. I decide to ignore it for now.

“What are you dressing up as?” I ask.

“I was thinking an ugly troll.”

The thought makes me laugh. I highly doubt Zane could be an ugly anything.

“Will you go with me? Please?” Zane asks again. Hope blossoms in his voice. How can I turn him down?

“Sure. Might as well.” After all, what do I have to lose?

Cassie is way more excited about this party than I am. She tortured me for hours in various stores, searching for the best costume. In the end, she decided I would be a sexy fairy. Cassie has the utmost faith that this thing between Zane and me will work out. I think she reads too many romance novels.

Zane has called me every night, talking to me until it’s entirely too late. It’s a slow getting-to-know-you kind of process. It’s been nice, honestly. And easy. Easier than I thought it would be. Zane is so laid back; he seems the opposite of me in that regard. I always feel wound tight. Zane breathes fresh air into my life.

I stand before my dresser and give myself a once-over in the mirror. My gaze drops to my jewelry box where my wedding bands rest. I pick the set up and turn it this way and that. The light reflects off it beautifully. Before I can think too much about it, I slip the set on my right ring finger. Part of me feels naked without it, knowing I’ll be out with Zane tonight.

The doorbell tolls throughout the house and with a deep breath, I head for the front door.

“Wow,” I breathe. I didn’t think it was possible for Zane to look ugly, but he does. Green body paint covers his face, neck, arms, and legs. He wears a bright blue wig with crazy hair. Wartssprinkle his face. His clothes are tattered. He looks as if he just jumped out from underneath a bridge.

“Took the word right out of my mouth,” Zane says, looking me up and down. His once-over feels like laser beams slowly burning into me.

“Are we actually married?” I blurt out.

Zane frowns. “Yes, why? The certificate is at home, but I can bring it to you if you’d like.”

I shrug. Zane moves aside as I step out of the house and lock the door. Graham is off who knows where once again. I try not to worry about it. I asked him where he was going and he cocked an attitude, telling me it was none of my fucking business. He is an adult, but he’s also my baby brother and the last thing I want is for him to get into some trouble.

“You’re wearing it,” he says as he opens the car door for me, grabbing my hand and pulling me from my thoughts. His thumb rubs over the rings. Who knew such a simple act was so hot?

“I go back and forth between they are too pretty not to and too expensive to wear.” I slide into his passenger seat, mindful of my little wings hanging from my shoulders. “It doesn’t mean anything,” I add when he grins.

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