Page 15 of Kissing Chaos
Groaning, I drop forward onto the bar. “It’s not funny, man. That guy hates me, and I know it can’t be anything I did.”
Jace full on belly laughs. “Because you’re such a lovable guy, right? Are you tellin’ me you really don’t know why he hates you?”
“No, I’ve done nothing to him. I swear. I’ve never even had a reason to speak more than a few words to him.”
He stares, clearly not believing me. “Dude, your brother slept with his fiancée. How do you not know this?”
Well, shit.
6
Jett
Reece is quiet on the short drive back to his house.
My anxiety builds as he puts the truck in park, the four shots of liquor I had trying to make themselves known. Thankfully, Jace didn’t let me keep drinking. He learned his lesson the first time I stepped foot in Riley’s Bar and Grill. I hurled all over the freshly polished bar top.
“I know you’re hurting, sis, but you can’t keep running from the people who want what’s best for you.” Reece’s voice is gravelly with emotion. Emotion I try to lock in the darkest corners of my brain.
Like talking to our mom.
Or discussing failed relationships.
Or failed jobs.
Or life in general.
By the time I’ve registered his heavy sigh, he has already opened the truck door and stepped out. I groan. I’d been stuck in my head again and missed who knows what. I jump out of the truck and catch up to my brother.
“What did you say after the thing about running?”
“Nothing, Jett,” he mumbles, an air of frustration pouring off of him.
My stomach drops at the dismissal. Or is that the liquor again? On that note, I’m not sure the last time I ate except for the handful of fries.
“I’m sorry I tuned you out. What did you say?”
He shakes his head, the irritation that only I can trigger obvious in his posture and tone. “Don’t worry about it. Guest room has clean sheets. I already hid your keys, so no bright ideas about going home tonight. Guess I shouldn’t have cooked the Alfredo after all, since apparently Jace feeds you better,” he grumbles, motioning toward the takeout bag.
My shoulders sag, but before I can apologize, he stops me, palms raised by his stomach and voice dropping to a soothing tone.
“It’s okay, sis. It’ll heat fine tomorrow. Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.” With that, he turns and walks to his room on the other side of the house.
I wait as his footsteps fade and the door to his room clicks shut before putting the food from the bar away and sitting in the armchair closest to the kitchen.
I shouldn’t let it get to me. Irritating Reece is at minimum a weekly occurrence; twenty-seven years hasn’t changed anything. But something about tonight has those tightly guarded emotions leaking through the cracks.
My mind spins, so many thoughts trying to take over, but none of them make enough of an impression to stick.
***
The buzz of something vibrating across the floor wakes me from a deep sleep. It takes a few minutes for me to realize it is my phone. Groaning, I stretch out the kinks in my spine. I moved to the guest room around midnight, but the mattress is too firm for comfort. Sleep didn’t find me until about two hours ago. Maybe I should convince Reece to get one of those eggcrate mattress toppers for when he has people over.
I snatch my phone off the floor when it vibrates again and glance at the screen, seeing three missed calls and two texts from my best friend.
The smell of coffee draws me out of my room; Reece must have started a pot while I was texting McKenna. I stand and make my way into the kitchen, set on apologizing for lastnight. He’s pouring creamer into a large coffee cup but looks up as I slide onto the stool at the breakfast bar.
“I’m sorry.” My voice shakes, almost breaking.
