Page 11 of Of Pranks and Passion

“I’m not. I just don’t have that much money. I spent it all on housing and stuff. If she could just wait, I get paid on Friday, but I can’t give her what she wants right now. I sent her what I could.”

My mom made a tick sound behind her teeth, obviously annoyed with me. “You’re lying. You’ve been working for years before you left for school. Why do you insist on upsetting her?”

Yes, I worked. And most of it I had to give to my parents, who charged me rent to stay, or my sister, who used me as her personal ATM. They tried to convince me to stay so they could keep using me, but after turning twenty-three, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I applied for student loans, scholarships, grants. Anything I could think of. I’d rather have tons of debt than be stuck in that house any longer than I had to. It took a year of planning, but I finally got out.

“Mom–”

“Get her the money by Friday. She needs it more than you do. And don’t bother coming home for break. We’re going on a family vacation.”

A family vacation that didn’t include me. Even after all this time, it stung.

“Okay. I–”

She hung up without a goodbye, and I let my hand drop away from my ear. My vision blurred as I fought back a wave of tears. Would I ever be enough for them?

I let myself wallow for a few minutes before tucking my phone away and rubbing my eyes roughly. Taking in a steadying breath, I decided to go straight to the library. I wasn’t hungry anymore. I’d skip dinner tonight.

I turned, nearly colliding with Easton, who stood a few feet away. His eyes studied my face, his brows drawn together like he couldn’t quite understand what he was seeing. I felt myself flush, taking a step back to put more space between us.

“How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” he replied. “Why’d you give in? They can’t do anything to you.”

Lifting a shoulder, I walked toward the library. Easton fell into step beside me, his hands tucked into his hoodie pocket. I was a little jealous of that sweater. It looked warm. Most of my clothes were old and worn, or gifts from extended family who didn’t really know me. I appreciated it, since my parents stopped bothering to buy me clothes in high school, but they weren’t really my style. I wasn’t the collared shirt, knitted sweater kind of guy normally.

“It’s my family.”

That term stung a little. Some family. They’d rather I be broke and under their thumb than thriving and happy.

Easton grunted, and a quick peek at his face didn’t really give me much to go on. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking. He probably thought I was pathetic for giving in all the time. I felt pathetic sometimes.

“You hungry?”

Frowning, I looked up at him. “Um… No, not really. I was just going to go to the library and get some studying in before we met up.”

When his gaze shifted to look at me, I wanted to get lost in those emerald green eyes. Which, of course, made me blush and look away. I really was an awkward loser. I wouldn’t get a date in the next century if I kept acting like that.

CHAPTER SEVEN

EASTON

I wasn’t goingto argue with him. He was an adult who could make his own decisions. But that didn’t stop me from packing up an extra portion of lasagna that Coach made before heading out to meet Gary again. From following him, I knew he skipped lunch. That messed up phone call may have ruined his appetite for a little while, but he’d be hungry eventually.

Remembering the conversations pissed me off. He didn’t know I’d heard the first conversation with his sister. Not even a greeting before she started demanding money from him. And when he gave her a perfectly logical reason why he couldn’t and offered a compromise, she went crying to mommy to get what she wanted. It was pathetic. My protective instincts were rusty, I couldn’t summon the will to care most of the time, but I felt a distinct urge to protect Gary for some reason. Maybe it was my obsession. I wouldn’t be able to follow him around if he couldn’t afford to go here anymore.

I found him where he always was: in the library, his head resting on his hand, his lip caught between his teeth as he wrote out some notes. He startled when I dropped the container ontothe table, jerking up in surprise. I pointed at it and the fork taped to the top.

“Eat.”

He stammered and spluttered a little, his face bright red, but I wasn’t really interested in an argument. He needed to eat. Popping open the lid, I handed him the fork and put the food right under his nose. I figured the smell would help, Coach didn’t know how to fuck up a meal, and based on the loud growl from his midsection, I assumed I was right.

“We’re not supposed to eat in here,” he protested in a whisper, looking around nervously. I shrugged.

“No one comes back here. You’re fine. Just hurry up.”

Whether it was because he was used to giving in or he was hungry, he stopped arguing, and after the first bite, he let out a groan that went straight to my dick before going to town on the food. I had to readjust myself at one point. Gary made sex noises when he ate. Now I needed to feed him whenever I could. My obsession was getting a little unhealthy.

I used the distraction to my advantage, palming his phone when he wasn’t paying attention. I was only going to look, get more info about the guy, but I saw a text from his sister again, demanding he send her more or else, and it irritated me. So I blocked her and his mom for good measure and put the phone back before he noticed.

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