Page 7 of Hale
“Thanks,” I grind out as I reply back to my girlfriend.
Me: I miss you too.
Emboldened by the liquor, I press her.
Me: Show me your tits, baby. I miss them too.
She sends me a bunch of wow-face emojis.
Amy: Don’t be a perv.
No pictures of her tits.
Me: Come see me.
Amy: I wish, but you know how my mom gets. I have to open the boutique tomorrow. When can you come back home?
“After my shift, a bunch of us are heading to the lake. Want to come with me?” Jada asks, her full lips turning up on one side.
My dick sure as hell wants to.
“He does,” Nick answers for me. “Just don’t tell his girlfriend.”
Jada smirks. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Amy: ??
Me: Spring Break in a couple of weeks. Headed to bed now.
I pocket my phone. “I guess I’ll go.”
This was a bad idea, but as we all sit around the bonfire laughing and cutting up, I can’t help but relax. Since Mom and Dad died so suddenly almost a month ago, I haven’t found many moments to enjoy. Baseball feels forced. School is a drag. My job with Mrs. Brass no longer keeps my interest. Even Amy gets on my nerves. So having a chick flirt with me and hold her own on baseball stats is kind of fun.
“We could get out of here,” Jada says, a playful smile tilting her lips.
“Last time we left the herd, I made out with you. I have a girlfriend.” The frustrated way I say those words is pathetic. It’s almost as though I wish I didn’t have a girlfriend, which is nonsense. I love Amy. I’m going to marry her one day.
Right?
My mom’s words echo in my head. It was almost as if she knew I’d reach this point. I wish she were here so I could talk to her about it.
“I heard about your parents,” Jada says. “I’m sorry.”
I jerk my head up to find her staring softly at me. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not, though. You have to be hurting.” She grabs my hand and squeezes it. “I like you and would love nothing more than to help you not hurt.”
My cock aches at her insinuation.
But then my phone buzzes in my pocket, reminding me once again I have someone back home.
Rylie: I can’t take this anymore.
Frowning, I tug my hand from Jada’s and reply to my sister.
Me: Take what?
Rylie: Aunt Becky! She’s a Nazi! I hate her.
