Page 24 of Every Single Wildflower
Maddox
“Hey man.” Brady slaps a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey.” I have to put forth effort to not sound like a jealous asshole.
He nods at Shorty, the bartender who’s shamelessly flirting with the reverend’s wife.
“Can I get two cokes?” Brady calls. “One to go please.”
My stomach knots.
When Shorty places the drinks down, Brady leans on his elbow. “Can you put two cherries in this one?”
“Since when do you drink cherry coke?” I nudge him, trying to go back in time where we ribbed each other, not landed punches.
“It’s for Ivy.” He hikes a thumb in her direction.
I’ve always been good at choosing my words, but for some reason, I choose that exact moment to let the words fly from my mouth with more accusation than I intended. “Why? She hates cherries.”
Brady frowns. “Ivy? No, she doesn’t.”
“Yes, she does.” I take a gulp of the ice water in front of me. “She used to pick the cherries off of her Sundays.”
Brady tilts his head, like he’s trying to recall the memories.
Anger slowly begins to build. It always does when I think back to how he was with her. How the fuck did he not know she hates cherries? He dated her for four years. Known her as long as I have.
“Huh.” He shrugs. “I don’t remember that.”
Of course he doesn’t.
And these are the times I find myself frustrated with my brother. He never remembers anything unless it involves himself. Mom’s birthday. Laiken’s graduation. Hell, he wasn’t even in town when Trace was born and didn’t see him until he was almost a month old.
And like the jealous asshole I am, I nod my head in the direction of the booth that houses my girl. “Lunch date?”
He chuckles. “Nah, she’s waiting on Cooper and Ryder.” His eyes volley over to her. “Not sure she’d agree to a date after how things went down with us.”
I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let it out. I needed to get my shit together. I had no claim over her. Never have. But the mere thought of his hand over hers makes my stomach sour and my muscles tense.
“I have to get back to the station. Just came to pick up lunch.” He smacks my shoulder again. “Don’t forget, we still have plans for those beers.”
He slides the drinks from the bar, dropping Ivy hers before he saunters out the door.
Cooper and Ryder walk in not seconds later, shooting me a wave as they weave through the tables and over to their sister. I fight like hell to keep my attention on the flat screen above the bar. The one playing Urban Cowboy, but I can’t help it. It’s like this invisible string that’s always pulled me to her. I glance over my shoulder, and when I do, I can’t help but let my lip tilt in an arrogant smirk. Ivy dips her fingers into her coke before tossing the cherries out onto a napkin.
She hates cherries.
Why does that small fact make me feel like she’s mine?
Chapter twenty
Ivy
Six years ago
Two hours. He’s two hours late.
“Maybe he had car trouble?” My mom offers as she gives me a pitiful glance.
