Page 40 of Wanted You More

I laugh. “It scares me too. Have fun!”

She rolls her eyes and waves me off.

Me:Have fun with Bailey

Noah:Are you going to be okay?

Me:When am I not?

Noah:You don’t have to pretend with me

My nostrils flare at the tone I read his message in. It’s not unlike him to get this way with me when I’m trying to act like I’m fine. But that doesn’t mean I like it when he dishes it back.

Me:Focus on your girlfriend, Noah. That’s who you should be paying attention to right now

Instead of reading whatever he sends me next, I turn my phone screen off and head down the hall to Wolfe’s room. His door is cracked open, and he’s lounging across his bed with his laptop in front of him.

“Hey,” I greet, knocking. “Want to watch that movie? I saw the trailer and it looks pretty gory. Should be good.”

He sits up, eyes going to the clock, then the window. “Want to watch it in here? It’s quieter.”

What he means is that we won’t hear the fireworks as much as we would in my room.

I smile. “Sure. Scoot over.”

He loads the movie on his computer and settles into the spot beside me. “Marybelle left?”

I nod. “She had someone she wanted to see at the pier, so I told her to go.” Shrugging, I glance at him to see him already watching me for my reaction. “You’re stuck with me tonight, kid. Sorry.”

He grumbles, “I’m not a kid.”

Laughing, I nudge his ribs until he squirms and pushes me away. “Yes, you are. You’ll always be my baby brother.”

We fall to silence, save the movie, turning it up as loud as it can go to try drowning out the noise. And when we hear the first blast in the sky, our hands find each other’s and squeeze.

I close my eyes and try not to think about the sound or how similar it is to that Fourth of July night.

They’d waited for the fireworks to start so they could mask the sound of their guns. They got more people that way. Unexpected. Suddenly. They offered no mercy.

Our hold on each other’s hands doesn’t ease once as each blast rocks the sky. Neither of us looks at anything other than the screen, but I doubt we’re paying attention to what’s happening in the movie.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Everybody at theValentine’s Day party is wearing pink or black, which was a requirement in order to get past the front door. Pink is meant to show that you’re here to mingle, and black is to tell people to fuck off. When Marybelle told me about it, I wasn’t sure which color I’d wear.

She tugs me toward the drinks and grabs two plastic cups. “I still think you should have gone with the leather skirt instead. You’ve got the perfect legs for stuff like that, but you never want to show them off.”

I do a once-over of my outfit. The black lace body suit is tucked into my black leather pants. Wiggling my feet, covered in black combat boots that I bought using the money Dad gave me for Christmas, I lift my shoulders nonchalantly. “I think I look hot.”

We tap our cups together. “You do! You’re sexy in a I’m-terrified-to-talk-to-you kind of way. And I love the hot pink lip. Very mixed signal of you.”

That wasn’t exactly my intention when I chose the color. “I don’t own black lipstick. I’m not trying to look like Wednesday Addams.” I hide my smile with the rim of the cup. “Plus, maybe I’ll change my mind about what I want as the night goes on. It’s been a while.”

My friend, who’s wearing a painted-on pink mini-dress that barely covers her butt, squeals with excitement. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that! I know someone who would be down for a little one-night fun. He’s supposed to be here tonight.”

“Whoa,” I muse, moving us away from the line growing by the drinks. “I haven’t decided yet, so don’t try setting me up until I have. The last thing I want is another guy calling me a cock tease in front of a house full of our drunk peers.”

She groans, downing the rest of her drink before setting her cup down on the mantle beside us. “I told you I was sorry about that! That was ages ago anyway.”

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