Page 27 of Dean

“I’m good. Have a nice place to stay with a nice roommate. How are Mom and Dad since they’re not dead?”

“The worst ever. I can’t wait till I’m eighteen and can move out.”

“Two more years and then you can come live with me.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait, but hey…the reason I’m calling is I have a school trip to San Diego soon. I want to see you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s plan it. I’ll meet you wherever you want me to meet you.”

She laughs. “So, Mars then?”

“Fuck off.”

“You can’t talk to me like that. I’m your baby sister.”

“And you always were a little shit.”

She laughs again, the sound so fucking perfect, and my heart clenches. I haven’t seen her in ages. Four years to be exact. When I left home at eighteen, I knew I was leaving her behind. But fuck, I couldn’t take it anymore. And really, my parents didn’t give me a choice. I was forced to go unless I went to conversion therapy.

And I wasn’t going to do that.

Fuck that.

“All right, I have to go, but listen, I can’t wait to see you. I miss you like crazy and I think my boyfriend is going to get me a phone, so we can chat then.”

“Yeah? I’d love that.”

“I’d love it too. Send me a recent pic of you and I’ll do the same.”

“All right. Will do. Keep in touch.”

“Always.”

And then she hangs up, my phone pinging a moment later with a picture of her, looking all grown up. Big blue eyes stare back at me. She’s gorgeous with long blonde hair. An angel. I can’t believe I missed out on so much. She’s grown up without me.

Anger sits heavily in my gut, but I push it away.

No point in getting mad about this, it will only ruin the rest of my night. The only thing I can do is move forward. For her and for me.

I scroll through my pictures and shoot one off to her, and she sends back a few emojis in typical teenager fashion.

My head hits the pillow, and I set my phone on my chest.

I can’t wait until I get to see her.

I miss her so fucking much.

CHAPTER FOUR

DEAN

Seems I can’t quite stop looking at him, despite telling myself to quit it.

Even as I think it, I peer over at him again while working on a car. I’m trying to be discreet, but I’m sure I’m fucking up. He’s like some kind of enigma. All those slim lines on his body, the long hair, those pretty gray eyes.

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