“Truth.”
“I’m going to be honest, I suck at this game and thinking of questions or dares.” I sigh after at least thirty seconds of silence while I try to think of something.
“That’s alright, Sugarplum. What about you, Nick? Anything you’ve been dying to know about me?”
“I already know everything about you,” Nick says, shrugging one shoulder. He leans back against the couch and stretches his arms out across the back. “As you and my siblings like to point out every chance you get—particularly when you fuck something up—I helped take care of you.”
“Papa bear,” I tease, nudging his leg with my foot since that's the closest thing to him.
“Bet you don’t know who stole your truck the night of their eighteenth birthday…” Benson taunts, to which Nick snorts.
“You think I wasn’t out there on that tiny-ass four-wheeler you got for your thirteenth, following your ass?”
“Four-wheeler?” I ask, lifting a brow.
“Yeah. Before the Pumpkin Patch and Christmas Village took off, before Dad died, honestly, we didn’t have a lot of money. Nick was the only one with a vehicle, but I would complain about walking around the farm so much that when I turned thirteen, Nick got me the four-wheeler. It was a tiny thing with a max speed of like thirty, but it did its job.” Benson chuckles, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you rode that thing around town, and I never noticed you.”
“Okay, I think I have a question now,” I say, when it reminds me of something I heard once. “Benson, is it true that you got kicked out of Taron’s bar the night it opened three years ago?”
“Yes. But in my defense I was only curious about it and not trying to drink,” Benson answers.
“You got tossed out after Taron snatched the beer out of your hand…” Nick chuckles. “Rhian was literally there.”
“It wasn’t my beer! Okay, technically it was given to me, but I swear I was just holding it for Rhian while he double-fisted two other drinks!”
“Right.” Nick shakes his head, clearly not believing him.
“Keep it up, and I’m going to ask you how you used to earn money just after you graduated high school, for your truth,” Benson warns, and now Nick is the one glaring.
“Oooh, I’m definitely asking that next.”
“Nah, it’s your turn,” Nick says to me, but I shake my head.
“No way! I want to hear how you made money after you graduated, Alpha.”
“I mowed lawns.” Nick shrugs, but Benson scoffs.
“Oh, he mowed lawns alright.Shirtless.Sometimes in nothing but boxers.”
“It was one summer, and only because I wanted to go to college. It paid well, and it gets hot as fuck when you spend all damn day in the sun,” Nick grumbles, looking more aggravated than I expect for something like that. I’ve seen women in ourtown mow lawns in their bikinis, and it’s not like Nick was the last guy in town to have the same idea.
So why is he so… upset?
He said he only did it because he wanted to go to college, but I already know that’s not something he ever did. Is he embarrassed that he wanted to go to school but didn’t? There’s a small community college in town, as well as a popular online school a lot of people go with pretty often. Why would any of this upset him?
“I’m going to go get us drinks,” Benson says quietly, jumping up and then hustling out of the den.
I sit here quietly for a long moment, trying to piece the puzzle together in my mind, when Nick huffs loudly, startling me.
“Shit, sorry,” he says as I sit up further, turning to face him fully.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask.
“Nothing to talk about. I wanted to go to school even though it was stupid. It was never going to happen, and I knew that, but I got my hopes up anyway. I thought I could be something more than I am.” Nick shrugs.
“I don’t think it’s stupid to want something just because it's hard to obtain,” I say gently. “I don’t think having a dream is a bad thing or something to look down on yourself for. It doesn’t make you stupid, or whatever mean shit you’re thinking about yourself right now.”
Nick tips his head to the side, glancing at me. There’s a vulnerability in his green eyes as we watch each other, the furrow between his brows softening.
