Her eyes flit with fire, and that little angel I keep trying to envision her as turns neon red as a proverbial pair of horns and a tail pop out of nowhere. “Then what do you recommend?”
“Dinner on campus and then maybe a study group—toss in a Bible study while you’re at it.”
“Wow, you’re a real comedian. Have you considered stand-up as a side gig?”
Ava shakes her head at me as if I just let off an offensive odor. “Oh, I know!” She looks to Lucky with that same look Owen gets right before he births a piss-poor idea. “How about something ironic likeMom. It says wow backward.”
“No.” I don’t waste time in shutting down that idea. Next thing you know, she’ll be wanting a hula girl. How’s that for irony? All her life I’ve been protecting her from boys when it was the girls I really had to look out for.
“I like it.” Lucky gets her own wild look in her eyes, and I’m sunk because I’ve seen that look before. “But I think it should sayDad!”
Shit. My stomach clenches. “Nope.” It pisses me off that she even said the word in here. Not going there. For sure I’m not etching those letters into her skin for the world to see.
“Yes,” she snipes back. Gone is her friendly demeanor. Lucky is about to go off the rails if she doesn’t get her way. I’ve seen Lucky hemorrhage into hysterics enough times to know. “He was the best dad in the world.”
“Right.” Wrong actually. Both of our parents are long gone, and I get that she wants to keep their memories alive, but my father is best long forgotten. “You can believe what you want, but it’s still not happening.”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
“Says every three-year-old.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not three. Maybe you shouldn’t treat me like I am.” She hops off the table, and they head to the front.
“Wait, I’m sorry. Nobody gets a tattoo on their first day of college,” I say, following them out the door.
Ava smirks at me as if I’ve just taken a crap on her book bag. “That’s not what Piper said!”
Lucky gives me the finger as they head to the used pickup I bought her last Christmas. “We’ll find someone else to take my money.”
“You meanmymoney. And don’t you dare! I’m the best, and you know it.”
I watch as they take off in a dust storm, the tires leaving their greasy tracks in her wake.
Nothing new.
Lucky always seems to leave her mark. But that tattoo she’s thinking of—that’s one mark I hope she has nothing to do with.
Aweek drifts by, and each night when I arrive home, another area of the living room disappears in a sea of boxes. It’s safe to say I’ve been Daisy Pembrooked. How the heck did she manage to cram all this crap in her dorm anyway? I’ve been in my fair share of those glorified coffins Whitney Briggs provides, and there’s no way she’s had this stuff lying around in or out of boxes.
Designers, knock-offs, sweaters, boots, summer clothes, coats—three entire boxes labeledpurses—but it’s the one down near the bottom that readskinkthat has my attention.
“Don’t get your hopes up, tat boy.” I turn around to find a drop-dead gorgeous, dripping wet from the shower Daisy Pembrooke standing tall, hair slicked back like wet spaghetti, a tiny white robe wrapped around her body that highlights the fact her nipples are glad to see me. “It’s a misspelling. It’s supposed to sayPink, as in my supplier of all things underwear.” She snatches a pen off the counter and quickly rectifies the K to a P.
“Tat boy?” I cock my head a moment, taking her in like this with that pale blonde hair, those glowing eyes, and that mouthwatering body before heading to the fridge to cool myself off. It was the fridge or her. I knew I had to get my hands on one of them. “You want something?”
“No thanks.”
“Good.” I flip the lid on the OJ and down half the jug straight from the container.
“Nice.”
“I am nice. That’s why you’re here.” I thump the juice back into the fridge before turning around, hoping to hell my boxers don’t commit to a spontaneous salute.
“Oh, you’re nice, all right.” She nods with those wild eyes—a shade of ice blue that matches that glacier sitting in her chest where her heart should be. “Amy, Laura, Jessica, Michelle, and Tracy have all stopped by this week to tell me exactly howniceyou are.”
I take a bold step in, her heaving chest a breath away from mine. “You have something you want to say to me?”
Her pink little lips knot up in a bow as if the words she wanted couldn’t quite get out. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be bitchy. I guess you can say I’m a little on edge these days.”
