“There’s no one I trust with this more than you.”
“You obviously need to get your head checked, then.”
Alyssa laughs and smacks my arm. “If you mess it up, I’ll never let you forget it.”
“If I mess it up, at least you live in Georgia, and I won’t have to look at it every day.”
“You’re a jerk,” she mutters, shaking her head.
“But you love me.”
She sighs loudly. “I do and always will.”
Besides my family, Alyssa has been the only other constant in my life. She’s my ride-or-die. She knows everything about me—every mistake, every secret, every heartbreak.
One of the saddest days of my life was when she decided to go to college in Georgia and then fell in love with a local, giving me no hope of her ever moving back to Chicago.
“Afterward, we’ll find some trouble,” she says, her eyes twinkling with all the possibilities.
“I don’t know if I have the energy for that tonight, babe.”
She stares at me with her lips flat. “You don’t have the energy for fun?”
I shrug, wishing I’d taken a nap earlier today. I worked at the shop way too late last night, but I didn’t want to leave until Timber finished his last tattoo. “We’ll figure it out after we’re done.”
“Hey. What was the third thing on your list of promises you made yourself when you turned thirty?”
I glance around, making sure there isn’t anyone nearby. “No more hookups without a relationship first.”
“Oh boy. That’s going to be interesting.”
“So far, I’ve been able to do it.”
“You turned thirty last week, sweetheart. Don’t pat yourself on the back too much for making it seven whole days without a one-night stand.”
I give her my middle finger before heading to the shop to do a tattoo and maybe find a little bit of trouble afterward.
CHAPTER4
WYLDER
“They’ll be fine,Wylder. Go blow off some steam,” Ma says as she pushes me toward her front door. “I think the three of you need a break from one another for the night. I’ll talk to the girls about what happened today and explain why it was wrong.”
“Don’t you think I should be the one to talk to them?”
She shakes her head as she twists her lips. “No. Not while you’re still upset.”
I stare down into my mom’s deep brown eyes, wondering how she has the patience of a saint. “Why aren’t you more upset?”
The laughter that bubbles out of my mom is unlike anything I’ve heard in a long time. “You clearly don’t remember what a little shit you were when you were young. You did way worse things. I don’t even know how I survived. I swear you were trying to put me in an early grave.”
“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, feeling more than a little guilty for being a dumbass, boneheaded teenager.
“And to be honest, you still scare the crap out of me most nights. I worry about you.” She lifts her hand to my cheek, cradling my face like she did when I was a little boy. “You’ve been through just as much as they have, and someday, you’re going to pop once it all hits you.”
“It’s been four years, Ma. It’s hit me. Pop averted.”
“That’s a lot of days of anger building up inside you. You think you’ve popped, but I don’t think you have.”
