Page 42 of The Way We Score

Zane

Still in bed with my lady.

I half expect my formerly dark-horse older brother to include a selfie, but if he did it would be one of those artsy-fartsy ones with the sheet billowing around their entwined bodies with nothing showing.

Damn, my brain is fucked-up this morning.

Rubbing my forehead, I don’t want to think about Liv leaving. I don’t want to think about how it was only a rebound for her. I don’t want to think about how she smiled as she thanked me so politely for a fun night.

The fucking earth moved under my feet. It was a fucking Carole King song, and she was so cool about it all. Sure, she was annoyed with her mom, but she actually gave me a hug and a smile. She was sorry she had to get back, but she’d been out of the office for almost a month. She didn’t even want to think about the pile of work on her desk.

She acted like last night didn’t count. That was my dumb, made-up rule, wasn’t it? I could kick my own ass. All of it counted, from that kiss to the dancing to every single moment.

Logan

Headed to the airport. Dylan said I can’t text while we’re on our honeymoon, so y’all have a nice two weeks.

My head tilts to the side, and I glance back at Kimmie on my back. “What do you want for breakfast, Peanut?”

“Eggs! Eggs! I want eggs!” She bounces the stuffed, red turtle on my shoulder with every word.

“I’ve got all the eggs coming right up. You two head out and set the tables.”

“I know how! Miss Allie showed me!” Kimmie wiggles, and I put her on her feet as she takes off like a comet through the double doors again.

“If only there was a way to bottle that.” Craig shakes his head, turning to the stove and clicking on the fire.

“I’ll make more coffee,” I volunteer.

Lord knows I’m going to need some more. I’m going toneed a lot more of a lot of things to get over last night, and the only person I have to blame is myself.

“I loved that Hot Cherry drink.”Rachel’s head is in her hands. “A little too much.”

“Kinda like what happened when Zane gotyourhot cherry,” Allie stage-whispers, leaning into her side.

“Oh my God, Allie!” Rachel gives her a push then immediately grabs her head. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

My brother puts his arm around her, exhaling a chuckle as he hugs her closer. “Have some toast.”

She snuggles into his side, and I remember when I thought they were cute. Sunny Rachel who finally dragged my grumpy older brother out of his shell. Now they need to get a room and stop being all happy in our faces.

“Try the cooter special with a side of sherry,” Hendrix teases. “Or skip the soup and just do a shot of sherry.”

“I have three cooters!” Kimmie hops onto her knees in the chair beside me.

My little brother snorts, dropping his chin. “It’s too much.”

Kimmie’s eyes sparkle like she knows she’s doing something, and she tries to stand. “Miss Olivia said their names are Snappy, Happy, and Earl!”

Reaching out, I hold her waist, wondering when Liv might’ve told her that. “Easy there. That’s not safe.”

She crawls into my lap. “She said I was just like Aunt Deedee when she was my age.” Her amber eyes sparkle, and I can tell that makes her happy.

“You are.” I give her a little pat.

“Like Dylan on crack.” Hendrix laughs.

Kimmie makes a face at him before scooting higher to put her hand on my shoulder. “Crack is wack, Uncle Grizz.”

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