Page 8 of Wanted You More

Before I can comment, somebody comes up behind me and hooks their arm around my neck to draw me back into them. I lock up instantly, heart going into overdrive from the sudden surprise attack. The second I smell the tobacco surrounding us and see my brother’s unhappy scowl, I know who’s standing there.

Elbowing his ribs, I jerk away from Nick’s slimy hold and step toward my brother. “I told you not to do that. You know how much I hate it when people sneak up on me.”

The boy I sometimes call friend gives me a toothy smile, not seeming to care about my discomfort. “Sorry, sorry. I just got excited when I saw you. You never texted me back last night.”

Nicholas Canastra was the first real friend I made when I moved here. He’d self-appointed himself as the welcoming committee, showed me around the school, told me who to befriend and avoid, and made the transition easier. There’s nothing inherently wrong with him. He’s cute in a dorky way, and we get along just fine. But he’s always been interested in more than friendship, which I’ve never reciprocated. It makes talking to him sometimes draining because he crosses one too many flirty lines despite my warnings.

“I went to bed early,” I lie, shooting Wolfe a look when he snorts at the bullshit I’m spouting. He hates Nick because he knows Nick does whatever he wants no matter how much I tell him it annoys me.

Nick feigns hurt, putting his hands on his chest like I’ve wounded him. “That’s too bad because I was trying to see if you wanted to come over and watch that new action movie together.”

Alone in his parents’ basement? I wouldn’t have said yes anyway. “I’ve actually seen it already. Wolfe and I watched it together as soon as it came out.”

Wolfe smirks at Nick. “Sorry,buddy.”

Nick shrugs. “That’s fine. We can always watch one of those sappy girly movies you like so much. I’m not picky.”

Not wanting to entertain this conversation anymore, I lock elbows with my brother. “Sorry to cut this short, but we have to get back home. Family dinner and all that.”

As we walk around him, he calls out, “I’ll text you later!”

I throw my hand up in acknowledgment and shove Wolfe when he snickers. “Shut it, little brother, or I’ll start giving you noogies again like I did when you were little.”

He asks, “Why do you bother with that guy? He’s annoying, and he always smells like cigarettes. Plus, he doesn’t get the hint about never being more than friends.”

While he makes solid points, I feel the need to argue anyway. “He knows we’re just friends and won’t be anything more.”

My brother groans. “You’re an idiot then, sis. Guys and girls can’t be friends. One of them always wants more and is going to keep trying to get the other person to crack.”

I scoff. “What do you know?”

He shrugs. “You know I’m right.”

This time, I’m the quiet one as we walk home to our fictional family dinner.

CHAPTER FOUR

Dad isn’t homewhen I grab my car keys, a bottle of water from the fridge, and my purse from where I tossed it onto the kitchen table.

“You sure you don’t want to tag along?” I ask, already knowing the answer Wolfe will give me. Wincing when I put my purse over my shoulder, I dig through it to find the travel-sized bottle of Motrin and pop a couple pills before glancing at my brother.

He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and sets it down on the counter. “Maybe you should stay home and rest your arm. I was thinking about convincing Dad to order pizza. We can get that nasty mushroom stuff you like.”

Usually, pizza would be the perfect bribe to get me to do about anything. “I already told Noah I’d be there.”

Walking to the utensil drawer, I take out a knife and grab his apple, slicing it for him, knowing he’ll grab the caramel from the cupboard to dip them into. He watches me do it the same way he used to watch Mom when she’d prepare snacks for us when we were little.

He steals one of the slices from the cutting board and bites into it. “When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know.”

“Want to watch a movie tonight?”

What’s with him tonight? “Wolfe, I don’t know when I’ll be back. You’re probably going to be asleep by the time I get home. What’s your deal?”

He stares down at the other half of his apple slice before setting it down. “I don’t get why you’re in contact with the Kingsley family. You know what it does to Dad. Sometimes I wonder if you talk to them because it hurts him.”

The knife stops mid-chop as I slowly lift my gaze upward. It’s hard to ignore the sharp ache in my chest, like he took the knife and stabbed me right in the heart with it. “Is that really what you think?”

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