Page 2 of A Hurt So Good

“You won’t. You’re a smart girl.” I smile at her, and she smiles back as we pull into a driveway. It’s a long driveway with trees and flowers down either side. It’s actually beautiful if you’re into that sort of thing, flashy things, which I’m not.

When we pull up in the round driveway, mom parks the car and climbs out. I climb out behind her, and we walk to the back of the car to grab my things.

“You don’t have people that do this?” I ask sarcastically.

“We do, actually. I just figured you wouldn’t want them to,” she tells me.

“You’d be right. I can’t believe this is where I’m going to be staying,” I tell her. I’ve never been a fan of the flashy, rich life. Of course, my mom makes millions of dollars, but I moved out of her house as soon as I could. Call me a minimalist, I guess, but I don’t see the need for all this. Why do you need people to wait on you hand and foot? Can you not get your ass up and do things for yourself?

“It’s not as bad as it seems, Arya.”

“It’s not? So you’re going to tell me there’s no lavish pool out back, and I can’t see the ocean from the damn window?” Mom laughs, but I don’t. I know how she likes to live, and this is no different.

“Okay. So it might be as bad as it seems, but I think you’re going to like it, Arya. Give it a chance.” I nod my head as I heft my bag over my shoulder, dragging a suitcase behind me. I follow her up the steps just as the front door opens. Then I stop in my damn tracks. The man standing in the doorway is fucking gorgeous. He has dark hair and even darker eyes that seem to pierce right through me. He takes me in, eyeing me up and down before a smile crosses his face.

“You’re Arya,” he states, stepping toward me.

“Yeah, I am.”

“I’m Jarrod. I’m glad I’m finally getting to meet you,” he says, extending his hand to me. For a long second I just look at it. This? This is the man my mother married? What in the holy fuck? He’s … hot!

Shaking the thoughts from my head, I reach out and take his hand in mine.

“Nice to meet you, too. Mom’s told me a lot about you.” He turns his gaze to hers and smiles but doesn’t let go of my hand.

“I’m sure she has. Let me take that for you,” he says, finally pulling his hand away from mine and grabbing my suitcase. He turns and walks inside as my mom motions for me to follow.

“Jesus, Mom!”

“What?”

“Could you find a hotter man to marry?” I ask her. She laughs as we follow Jarrod through the house and up another set of stairs.

“We’re on the other end. I figured you’d want some privacy, and your mom agreed. You have this whole wing to yourself,” Jarrod explains before stopping at one of the doors. He reaches for the knob and turns the handle, pushing it open before ushering me inside. When I enter the room, I saw exactly what I expected. Overpriced shit.

I sigh. At least I have a home for now.

Chapter 2

Denz

“What day?” I say into the line. I’m not sure how I feel about a family dinner just because his new wife’s daughter is here. I don’t really give two shits about who it is he’s fucking this month. And she isn’t the first sister I’ve had to meet. Not that I called the other’s sister. They weren’t around long enough for that, and I assume this one won’t be either.

“In a week or two. I want Arya to get accustomed to being here first before I bombard her with you three,” he laughs into the line.

“We’re not that bad,” I tell him with a smile on my face.

“Not at all. How’s your mom?” he asks, knowing he doesn’t really give a shit about her.

“As good as she can be.”

“Does she need anything?” he asks, and I nearly roll my fucking eyes.

“No, I got it handled. Listen, I’ll tell the other two, but I don’t know about this.”

“Show up, Denz, and make sure Harlon and Warren both show up, too.” The line goes dead, but I know that was a demand. We better show up. I blow out a breath and light up a joint before turning and walking down the street. It doesn’t take me long to get home, where I see my little sister, Sasha, standing out front arguing with another girl. I walk closer and lean against the tree, watching her.

Sasha is sixteen and a smartass. We share the same mom but not dad. We don’t really know who her dad is and don’t care to know. She doesn’t need his ass in her life. She has me.

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