Page 109 of Worlds Collide

“I fucked up!” he shouts, interrupting me again and now he’s getting on my nerves. “I shouldn’t have left that stupid therapy session. I shouldn’t have ever told you not to say what you needed to say to Hawk. I know that, okay?”

“Then why did you?” I demand, speaking loudly now too.

“Because I was scared, and I was pissed at you for relapsing and for not letting us see you before then. I thought you were cutting us both off for good and you were yelling at Hawk which you’d never really done before and I. Was. Scared. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Yes,” I shout back. We both breathe hard for a moment until Deedee seems to deflate.

“Is this really what having a brother is like?” he grumbles.

“Pretty much,” I say simply.

“It fucking sucks. Sisters are better.”

“Mom used to think so too and she apologized to God many times for not giving us a sister.”

He snorts at that.

“Man, any time I forget, you or Hawk will say something about her that just makes me ache for not having met her.”

“She would’ve loved you,” I whisper. “She would’ve tried to steal CJ away from me, but she would also have really liked you.”

“Dumbass,” he says, with an eye roll.

It feels like before, but... he didn’t really agree with what I’d worked on with my therapist.

“So . . .” I don’t know what to say.

“So, do you forgive me?”

“Yes,” I say like it’s obvious. “But?—”

“But nothing. If you forgive me then everything goes back to the way it was before we moved to the ranch.”

“Well, no,” I refuse instantly. “I’m not moving in with you guys.”

Derek growls at me. Oh, I haven’t heard that one in a while, he’s losing his patience. “I meant we’re going to talk like we used to before, and when you’re mad at Hawk or he’s mad at you, you’ll have to deal with that without me.”

“What if I get mad at you?” I ask just to fuck with him.

“Then you will grunt and growl and we’ll deal with that too,” he says through gritted teeth.

I smile big then. God, I love this dude so much.

“No one can call you Deedee, but me,” I say like this is a negotiation.

“A guy at practice tried and he ate turf for a week straight,” he says menacingly.

“Good. Can we eat now?” I ask, like I wasn’t the one stringing the conversation along.

“Yes, for fuck’s sake.”

EPILOGUE

CJ

Three Months Later

Without hesitationor even some inclination

---