“Oh”—I widen my eyes at Bryson as if begging him to hoist me out of this verbal quicksand—“I’m not wearing anything decent.” I look down at the shorts I swiped from Jeanie, my crop top, coupled with a pair of patent leather FMs. Surely my conservative brother wouldn’t want me roaming the mean streets of Hollow Brook in what amounts to brothel-ware.
“I thought that might be the case, so I brought these.” Cole holds up a bag, and I snatch it from him only to find my pink Whitney Briggs sweat suit staring back at me. Figures. Cole is still very much interested in me maintaining my V-card for another twenty years. Little does he know I turned it in last weekend to his beefcake BFF.
“Look”—I sigh into poor Luke who doesn’t even realize his balls are on the line if he tries something with me—“I’m kind of not feeling that great. I really just want to finish my shift. I’m shy a few books for class, and I need the cash.”
“Baya.” Cole pulls me to the side. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you needed money? You know that’s what I’m here for. I want to help you in anyway I can.” His eyes melt over mine with a layer of heartbreak underneath.
I cut a quick glance back at Luke. “I see what kind of help you’re offering, and, by the way,nothank you. Do you honestly think I’m that desperate to have my brother hook me up? Don’t you think I have what it takes to find someone on my own?”
Cole lets out a heated breath. His fingers fly through his hair in frustration.
“No, Baya”—he shakes his head good and pissed—“I’m afraid youdohave what it takes to get a guy,lotsof guys. I also know you lied through your teeth about where you went last weekend.” His eyes remain over mine, and my stomach explodes in a ball of acid. Holy shit. Cole knows.
The air clots up in the room. The speakers blare some yodeling country song that mimics all of the disasters in my life, and I just want to crawl under a table and stay there while trying to avoid both Cole and old gum.
“I don’t have to tell you everything.” I practically spit the words in his face. “You’re not Dad. You never were. You pretended you were, but you never came close.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His dark brows knit together. “I care about you. I don’t want to see you get hurt by whoring around with a bunch of guys.”
“Isn’tthatthe pot calling the kettle black. I think you’ve perfected the fine art of ‘whoring around,’ or haven’t you noticed the writing on the wall? I believe you’re in the lead by almost fifty points. I hope to God your dick doesn’t fall off, but, if it did, I wouldn’t call it a loss. If you keep throwing yourself away like that, then you don’t deserve to have one.”
I hurry to the restroom, lock myself in a stall and just lose it.
Less than three minutes later Laney comes in, and I finally open the door.
“Sometimes big brothers suck.” She pulls me into a strong embrace.
I don’t think Cole will ever accept me being with anyone—let alone Bryson.
Cole’s not at all like Dad.
He’s a hypocrite of the highest order.
Bryson
Fucking Cole.
He’s such an ass for treating Baya like she’s still fifteen. He took off soon after their blowout, and, lucky for Luke, he took off not long after, too. I have nothing against the guy, but, if he thinks he’s hitting on Baya, he’s got another thing coming, namely my fist.
I watch as she and Laney wipe down the tables. It’s a quarter to three, and you’d never know it by the way the co-eds still line the bar even though we shut down the kitchen an hour ago.
“Why don’t you get going?” Holt smacks me on the ass with a dishrag.
“I should help you close.” I watch as Baya frowns into Laney. Cole ruined her entire mood the second he showed up. It’s obvious his opinion means a lot to her. I wonder if she’ll have a change of heart about me once he fills her in on what a womanizing asshole I’ve been the entire time he’s known me—not that she’s completely unaware. It’s just that hearing it from Cole might put some weight behind it.
“Don’t worry about me, man.” He nods over to Laney. “Me and Sawyer have got it handled.” He steps in. “So, did you appreciate the big ‘meltdown’ last weekend?” His brows pitch so high they’re about to rocket right off his forehead.
“I figured that was your doing.” I shake my head. “Do me a favor, and don’t go defrosting any more of our assets. I got this.”
“Done. And next time a little thank you would be nice.” His face grows serious. “Dude, I don’t want to see you get hurt again. Got that?”
“Baya isn’t going to hurt me.”
“I’m not worried she’s going to leave you. I’m worried you’re going to do something stupid and leaveher.”
A couple of girls spill their margaritas, and Holt jumps on it.
I shake my head at the absurdity. I wouldn’t leave Baya. There’s no way in hell I’d let Cole push me around like some pussy.
