Page 3 of Someone to Have
“The sports gene kind of skipped me.”
“Tink was adopted. Left on our front porch by a band of roving book nerds.”
Another one of my brother’s favorite explanations. I flip him the bird.
Eric rubs a hand against the back of his neck like he’s not sure how to respond. “You were adopted by a wonderful family.”
The dark blue sweater he’s wearing makes his skin look golden, like he spent Christmas in the south of France. For all I know, he was on a yacht with his supermodel girlfriend and the son of some Russian oligarch. Okay, maybe I’ve been hitting the dark romance section of the library too hard lately.
“I wasn’t adopted,” I mutter.
“Dude, I’m messing with you.” Toby smacks Eric on the shoulder. My brother is touchy-feely in the most annoying ways. “Tink looks exactly like our mom. She’s just weird.”
“Yeah, I get that,” Eric answers casually.
He casually thinks I’m weird. Lovely. There goes my childhood crush, crashing and burning in a fiery death. Thank god I still have Mr. Darcy.
The irritation must be written on my face, not that I’m trying to hide it, because Eric visibly cringes.
“I didn’t mean you’re weird. I remember your parents coming to games. You look like your mother.”
It’s the nicest compliment a person can give me, and I guess it’strue. I have the same dark hair, pale skin, and clear blue eyes as my mom. I may look like her, but the resemblance stops at the surface.
My mom had this way of making people feel like they mattered. Where she was fearless, I hesitate. She filled a room with laughter, while I shrink into corners, awkward and unsure. Although she died four years ago in a car accident, the mention of her still causes a tight ball of emotion to clog my throat. Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I know Eric notices because he looks like he wants to bolt.
Why can’t men handle a crying woman? They’re emotions, not the clap.
Oblivious as always, my brother orders another round, then turns to me again. “Seriously, you think I’ve got any chance with Avah?”
“About as much as a snowball in hell. And leave my friends alone.”
“How are the two of you friends?” he demands, but hands me a beer when the bartender places a bucket of them on the scarred wood bar. “She was the ultimate cool chick in high school.”
“Are you purposely being more of a dick than usual, or is tonight special?” I assume Toby knows it’s a rhetorical question.
To my horror, he answers anyway. “Don’t get your granny panties in a twist.”
I can’t believe he just told Eric Anderson, who’s now looking less like he wants to escape and more like he’s trying to bite back a smile, that I wear granny panties.
“They’re hipsters, Toby. If you’d fix your washing machine, you wouldn’t need to bring your laundry to my place.”
“I’m not complaining, Tay-tay. First, you buy those beads that make me smell like spring. Second, I don’t like to think of my little sister getting any. I know for sure you’re not while wearing those bloomers.”
He holds out his hands, indicating to Eric the girth of my giantunderwear. I’d be much obliged if the ground could swallow me whole at that moment.
“For the record, I’m going to tell Avah you still suck your thumb,” I fire back.
Toby lifts his hand to give me a high-five that I don’t return. “Maybe she’ll ask me to call her Mommy.”
This time, Eric doesn’t hold back. He laughs heartily, tipping back his head to reveal the strong column of his throat. If I were another type of woman—or not standing in front of my brother and a guy too hot to give me the time of day—I might lean in and drag my mouth across it. Press my lips to his Adam’s apple and?—
“Tink, stop,” Toby commands. “Gross.”
I blink and touch a finger to the side of my mouth. Still no drool. “How is listening to you be a sexist pig gross?”
“You’re staring at Anderson like you want to take a bite out of him. Trust me, I’ve seen that same look on dozens of faces back in college—and even tonight. Pretty sure Malone has dibs.”
Megan Malone is a firefighter on my brother’s crew. She has dark eyes, naturally wavy hair, and curves for days. She’s also funny, sweet, and a total badass. Megan and Eric Anderson would make beautiful babies together, that’s for sure.
