Page 59 of Trust Me With Forever

“Kind of. I tried my best. I know sunflowers are your favorite, but it looks more like a daisy or something.”

She clicked her tongue. “And here I thought you were a breakfast artist extraordinaire!”

I made a face at her. “Better than you.”

She snorted. “Maybe I should be offended, but it’s true. I can’t draw or paint or sculpt anything to save my life, apart from stick people. Oh, I know! I should make a stick person breakfast out of sausage and bacon.”

“I can’t wait to see it.” I put her latte in front of her.

She smiled as she looked at the design on top. “It’s a chocolate unicorn.”

“Well, you did have those things everywhere as a kid. I still remember trying to remove all the stickers you put on my bike.”

“I forgot about that. It was like twenty of them. Emmy and I thought to make your boring bike a little prettier.”

“A sixteen-year-old boy doesn’t want a pretty bike,” I grumbled.

“Hey, I was six or seven? I didn’t exactly understand the coolness factor for teenage boys. Although, to be fair, I still didn’t understand it when I was a teenager myself.”

“Why? What happened?”

At the thought of some boy trying to take advantage of her, my fingers curled into a fist.

Then I remembered how she’d kneed me in the balls, and I relaxed a little. I’d still go after any fucker who hurt her, but she wasn’t completely helpless. Far from it.

“Let me get some food first and then I’ll tell you.” Abby sipped her coffee and then took a plate, dishing out what she wanted.

Once we both had our breakfast, she finally answered, “When I was fifteen, guys started talking to me, flirting with me, and asking me out. I didn’t know why they’d all started paying attention to me at the same time, but I merely enjoyed it. Until…”

“Until what?”

She speared a grape with her fork before she said, “Until I discovered they were trying to see who was the bravest.”

“Bravest? What the fuck does that mean?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t about me, but my brothers. Even if they weren’t all there when I was in high school, the Wolfe brothers were infamous. And so the guys at my school started a betting pool to see who would try to date me and stand up to my brothers, proving they were the manliest, or some such bullshit.”

Rage shot through me. “What?”

Abby peered at me. “It’s okay. It was over a decade ago. Although high school me wasn’t so nonchalant about it. I mean,it’s not exactly flattering when someone will only dance with you because they want to win some money.”

I nearly asked for some names, but held back. My focus needed to be on her ex in San Jose, not some sad high school boys. “Well, none of the guys at your high school were worthy. You were too good for their lame asses.”

Her lips smirked. “Lame asses?”

I replied solemnly, “Super lame asses.”

She snorted and shook her head. “Are you next going to shout, ‘Psych!’?”

“I’m not that old.”

I tossed a grape at her, but she smacked it back at me and it bounced off my leg. I reached for another, but she moved my plate away. “What was it you criticized my family for? Oh, that’s right, food fights. Pot, meet kettle.”

The urge to stick out my tongue was strong, but I restrained myself. “I’m just trying to make you feel more at home, that’s all.”

She shook her head. “I think it’s more that your life revolved around soccer for so long and you missed out on being a kid. But feel free to let out your inner child with me.” She pointed her fork at me. “Well, mostly. Put gum in my hair, and it’s war.”

“Duly noted.” I smiled, she did the same, and something shifted inside me.

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