Page 7 of Mine to Love

CHAPTER FOUR

Why the hell did she have to smell so good? Like cherries and cinnamon, or maybe that’s the wine on her lips. Lips I can’t keep my eyes off. Lips I need to taste to see if they’re as sweet as I remember.

“How ‘bout you, cowboy? Need another slice?” Reese curls her index finger around the neck of my beer bottle and drags it across the table before bringing it to her lips.

I run my finger along the inside of the collar of my shirt and give it a little tug. “I’m good.”

“Hmm. I thought a man as big and burly as yourself would be able to put down more than two pieces. Seems kinda weak to me.” Reese tilts her head back, finishes my beer, then sets the bottle down.

“Lo’s gotta watch his weight. Sitting behind a mahogany desk with three walls of windows overlooking Austin isn’t good for my brother’s figure. Maybe if he got his ass out from behind his computer, he could afford to put back another slice and a few more beers.” Holden reaches for his third slice and makes a show of taking a giant bite.

“Before you know it, you’ll be rocking the dad bod and your beautiful wife will be looking at a different Pierce brother.”

“Seriously, you two. The Pierce genes are blessed beyond measure.” Emerson wipes her mouth with her napkin and sets it on her plate. “Does anyone need another drink?”

“I’ll take one,” Reese says.

Emerson picks up the empties on the table. “You’re not going to be able to drive home.”

“I’m past that point now. Might as well go all in.” Reese sticks her foot out and bumps it against my leg.

Her toes move up and down my calf making the move anything but accidental.

“Showing up for work hungover doesn’t sound very responsible.” I hate how boring I sound, but it isn’t professional or efficient. I have no idea what Reese does for a living. Maybe she doesn’t work on Wednesdays. Or maybe she doesn’t have to work until later. I’d ask but then she might get the wrong idea.

Like I’m interested.

Which I’m not.

Because I can’t afford to be. My life has a clear path. A spreadsheet of goals and expectations. Short term and long-term plans. Step-by-step, month-by-month analysis of my entire life. My future.

Minus the social part.

I watch as Reese smirks over her new beer bottle. “Sometimes you’ve got to let your hair down and...let loose. You know what’s an awesome stress reliever?”

“What?”

“Wow. If you have to ask, you’re more pathetic than I thought.” Holden laughs. “Gotta get out more, Lo. And this coming from your brother who has less of a social life than you.”

I clench my teeth. Yeah. I walked right into that one. “I’m not stressed. I find ways to relieve it just fine.”

“Right now, you’re looking a little constipated,” my brother adds.

The girls laugh. I don’t mind being the butt of my brother’s jokes. I actually enjoy it. It means they care about me. Living so far away and not having as much in common with my brothers already puts a divide in our relationship. Their humor, their inclusion means I’m not as alone as I often feel.

However, now I’m second guessing my want to be one of the guys. Reese slows her laughter and tips her bottle to me. I raise a brow in confusion.

“Can you open this for me?”

I’m sure she is perfectly capable of popping open her own beer bottle, especially since it’s a twist off, but I comply. She’s only flirting with me because she’s drunk, and maybe because she wants a repeat of what went down New Year’s Eve.

I wish.

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