Page 260 of Branded
Five
Cas
Crinkle.
Frowning, I glanced down at the jeans I’d just dropped onto the floor of my closet, then bent and scooped them back up.
If there was one thing my mom was proud of instilling in me, it was the fact that I cleared my pockets before I did my laundry (of course, she’d be equally upset that my laundry typically spent most of its time on the floor near my hamper and not in it, but I couldn’t hope to meet all of her high expectations all of the time).
But that habit of clearing pockets meant that I was usually aware when I had shit in them.
And I knew that I’d taken out my cell, my wallet, that I hadn’t picked up any receipts at the bar.
Mostly because I’d been outmaneuvered when it came to paying for dinner.
Next time I’d pay.
For now, I reached into my front right pocket and?—
Cursed.
The hundred-dollar bill.
“Stubborn woman,” I muttered, crumpling the money into a ball before immediately smoothing it out again, folding it carefully and setting it on a shelf in my closet, then stripping down. I wanted to take a shower before going to bed. The hot water always settled my mind, helped me sleep.
Not that it would happen easily.
Because Jules returning my money?
Them’s was fighting words.
Well, I was going to fight back, going to make her accept this money.
Fuck knew she’d more than earned it with the hustle she showed on a regular basis. Plus, I knew exactly how far a hundred dollars could go when things were tight. They weren’t for me any longer—tight, that was. I made enough and was smart with saving and retirement funds and investments so that I would be set for the rest of my life.
My parents were, too.
I’d made certain of that, despite their recalcitrance to accept my help.
Further that, I’d ensured that my siblings were secure as well. As the oldest of four, that was my responsibility, especially considering that my youngest sister had just finished college and was working while she considered her options for more school, my little brother was working while getting his graduate degree, and my other sister was getting married.
I’d paid for Sam and Margot’s tuition (and Kathy’s when she’d gone) and would have paid for Kathy’s wedding, but my parents were refusing to accept my contribution.
So, I was going to give it Kath as a wedding present.
Maybe she’d use it as a down payment for her house, or to go on a killer honeymoon—God knew that none of us had been on vacation enough growing up. We’d all been worked too hard for too long.
Meanwhile, Jules had shoved the money back in my pocket.
Christ.
Women, man. They were confusing as fuck.
Of course, as the guys liked to tease me, I sucked at understanding women, so maybe it wasn’t a surprise that I was often left in confusion.
Like how a woman who was sweet and lovely could turn into a raving banshee who didn’t respect boundaries. Or another who said she wanted to be in a relationship, but then immediately tried to pick up a teammate. Several who’d seen me just as a paycheck, another who’d been beyond clingy and wanted me to pay to let her attend every away game. And Chelsea.
Sweet Jesus.
