Page 153 of Finding Hope

“I don’t want you to shoot him.” I press my make-up smudged face against my big brother’s soft cotton shirt and hold on.

His chest is so broad. He’s always been so much bigger than me. So mature, so grown-up.

He walked me to class every single day when I was little. He’d collectme at the end of the day and carry my bag home. He had his own friends, the big guys who wanted to ride bikes or kiss girls, especially Oz, the loud man-whore, but every day, Alex chose me, instead.

I can’t even be mad at him for what he said to Jack at dinner. It’s just who he is; my protector. Asking about Steph was mean, but he has no regrets.

“What happened, honey? Tell me?”

I shake my head, blatantly wiping my runny nose against his shirt. “Nothing happ–”

“I know he’s been away, and you sure as shit were excited for him to come home. So, what happened between yesterday and today?”

“Nothing.”

“Did he mess around with girls while he was away? Did he get into trouble with the law?” With a hand on my jaw, he draws my tearful eyes up. “I need you to give me answers.”

“He did nothing, X. I just…” I sigh. “I’m out of my depth.”

“How so?” Pressing his lips on my forehead, he brushes my hair back the way he did when I was six and needed an escort across the school yard. “He’s the luckiest piece of shit in the world, Britt, since he’s got you making the freaky googley eyes at him. If he doesn’t know that, then he’s an idiot.”

I guess maybe he’s an idiot, then. Or maybe I am.

“Woah!” Scotch’s worry cuts through the kitchen. “What the hell’s going on?” He takes my arm and pulls me against his chest. “Who do we have to kill? What happened?”

“Nothing.”

“I think Reilly’s fucking around on her.”

“He what?”

“No.” I groan and kick out at Alex. “He did not, so stop.”

Several sets of arms wrap around me and Scotch, and in an instant, I’m surrounded by a group hug of band members and a collective ‘awww’ that makes me smile, despite my crappy mood.

They’re a bunch of idiots. Fuckboys. Smartasses at best, pests at worst, and yet, their hug helps squish my heart back together for a few minutes while I work on coming to terms with the fact my boyfriend is in love with someone else.

A couple hours later, a jug of coffee, a few more hugs, and several unanswered texts from Jack, I find myself sitting on the front porch swing with Luc and Bowser, while I pick at the label on a cold beer and sit in silence.

I was never told one way or the other, but Luc’s allowed back at our house again, which means he and the guys have taken their beef ‘to the yard.’ They’ve had a beatdown not unlike how the Kincaids do it… but not as skilled.

Luc’s quieter now. He doesn’t openly flirt as much as he used to. But he’s back in our house, and hasn’t been kicked out of the band; probably because he’s – one of – the best drummer and songwriter’s we’ve ever known.

I’ll call that a success.

“You look sad today.” Swinging in the silence, Luc’s electric blue eyes watch me. Birds sing, and the leaves rustle. Bowser snores like a chainsaw, but other than that, it’s a perfectly silent Saturday. With my arms wrapped about my legs and my chin resting on my knees, I glance to my left and watch Luc peel the label off his beer.

I shrug. “Not sad. It’s just another day.”

Rolling the label, he grins. “Liar, liar.”

“What happened between you and my brothers after I threw you under the bus?”

“Nothing.”

Turning my head and resting it on my knees, I scratch Bowser’s ears. “Liar, liar.”

He laughs. “Whatever. It’s men’s business.”

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