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“Which we’ll never know.”
“Getting a guy needs work.”
“Not that much work,” Joel mutters.
Jet clears his throat. “Guys are pretty straight-forward, Brylee. I think he’d have let you know by now if he wanted to do the ugly deed with you.”
“Ugly deed?” Brylee opens her mouth, closes it. “Oh. Nookie?”
Who says nookie nowadays? Is the girl a granny in disguise? Or a virgin?
Now there’s an intriguing thought.
And who is this guy that has a girl like her at his beck and call—and doesn’t want her? Is he fucking blind? I mean, I get not wanting to marry her and have kids with her right away, but taking her to bed? Christ, I’d give my right nut for that.
I wanna meet this guy who has such power over chicks.
Over Brylee.
“I have a plan,” she says and gives a tiny, secret smile.
Her words echo my thoughts from before.
A plan.
Only she’s talking about getting the attention of a guy who obviously isn’t interested, while I’m talking about the difference between living under a roof or on the street.
Between losing my brother to a potential deadly threat, or saving him.
What the hell am I doing here? Pretending everything’s fine, sort of flirting with a pretty girl who’s clearly in love with another guy and wasting time instead of putting my brain to work on more pressing problems.
I lurch to my feet, and open my mouth to give my thanks for dinner and announce my intention to leave.
Instead, my first dinner in days comes up, and I throw up all over the carpet.
Oh jeez. Are you fucking kidding me?
Awesome first impressions.
Chapter Three
Ladyfingers
Ryan
“Not hungry?” my father asks sternly.
I squint at him across the long table. It’s ridiculous that we can’t eat at a smaller table, or God forbid, in the kitchen, with the smell of cooking around us, close enough to touch each other.
Hell, to see each other.
“I’m eating.” I resist the urge to lift my plate and show him. I’m not five years old. Even though with my father it always feels as if I am.
“Do you eat breakfast every day, though?” He points his knife at me from the other end of the table.
I’m guessing it’s his knife. It could just as well be a light saber, for all I can see in the gloom.
“Yes, sir.”
