Page 49 of You're To Blame 2

“That’s all right. I will catch his ass later tonight,” he snickered.

“This weekend I’d like you to have dinner with us at my grandparents. My mom keeps asking me to come home. Not happening.”

“She misses you so much. Melissa cries on my mom’s shoulder every day.”

We halted at my locker. I cupped his face. “She loves both of her sons. You can at least spend time with her.”

He sighed. “She can come to her parents’ house and see me.”

“Tate.” I kissed his lips.

“Chelse, you are trying to break me down with those irresistible blue eyes.” He dropped his head against mine.

“I’ll stop by tonight.”

“That’s my big man.” Tate’s nose nestled in the crook of my neck.

Someone pounded on the locker next to my head. I jolted out of Tate’s grasp.

“What the fuck, Mason?” Tate stepped toe to toe with him.

Marisa grinned, clutching her books against her chest.

“What the fuck are you smiling at? Pregnancy Barbie.” My lips tipped up at one end.

“Fuck you, outcast Barbie. You are still a minute, insignificant twit.”

“Says the chick who’s knocked up by the evil spawn.”

She rolled her eyes and tossed her perfect blonde hair over her shoulder. “Mason, this was a total waste of time.”

“Marisa, sweetheart, chill.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side.

Loud chatter quickly surrounded us as the students filled the hall. We arrived early so we beat the rush. We had to keep our voices down. Didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves.

“Mom, requested we sit down as a family for dinner Sunday.”

Tate’s jaw ticked. “Not on your fucking life.” He peeked around the hall. “Keeping up this farce of us being tight when you know damn well, we are anything but. You’re a piece of shit, Mason,” he growled in a low whisper.

“You’re my brother by blood and we unfucking fortunately share the same handsome mug. Matt is more my brother than you.”

Tate rubbed my shoulder. “Baby, grab your books, I’ll walk you to class.” He never took his eyes off his brother. “Don’t talk to Chelsea. My woman is off limits.”

Tate leaned down and kissed my lips in front of his brother. I’d say he was trying to piss him off.

Mason’s blue eyes darkened. It worked.

“Chelsea’s my woman, motherfucker.”

Mason’s fist curled at his side.

“Let’s go.” I tugged his blazer.

Tate was drawing unwanted attention to us. We had to come up with a plan and figure out what to do about Mason and Marisa. We had to coexist every day until the end of May.

He threaded our fingers and stalked down the hall.

“Tate, why are we covering for them? And slow down. I can’t walk that fast in these heels.”

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