No matter. Joe’s just going to have to get over it. He’s going to have to accept the fact that his baby sister has been mine for a long, long time. I knew it the night of her junior prom….
I was home from college to help my dad with something. When I stopped over to the Morrisseys’, Joe told me he was upset for his sister. That it was her prom, and she wasn’t going.
Told you he loved his little sister.
I didn’t think much of it. I figured it was because she just didn’t want to go, but Joe told me that no one had asked her. To say I was shocked is an understatement, because she was such a cool girl even back then. Funny, smart, and goddamn beautiful.
That revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.
Not only that, Becklyn didn’t seem the least bit sad about missing her junior prom. Instead, she made plans for a movie night with her mom and dad. She made popcorn and wore the most ridiculous pajamas I’d ever seen. It was one of those one-piece things that zip up in the front—hers had bunny ears and a tail. All I could think, at the time, was how fucking cute she was. And perfect.
That was it. That was the night I knew I was screwed. I’ve done my goddamn best to avoid her—done a good job too—until the night she showed up at the St. Paddy’s Day party. At least that’s the night I thought was my breaking point. Looking at her now, with her tousled hair and her sexy workout clothes, St. Patrick’s Day was nothing. Because this new version of Becklyn Morrissey is dangerous.
She already has my heart.
Now I’ve got to win hers.
* * *
Me:Pick you up at 4:30
Risky move though it is,I can’t stand the thought of her hopping on a city bus at four in the morning, alone. That time of night, there are crazies about. No, it’s my duty as, well, as her friend to make sure she gets to Smith’s safely. Besides, this gives me a chance to get my workout in, since my afternoons are packed with school shit.
No, this is a great idea.
The fact that I’ll be able to observe her through the wall of glass windows is a bonus.
18
Becklyn
I blinkat the message on my phone. “He’s not coming to my class. Is he?”
“He who?”
I glance at Deena, who’s eating a bowl of my favorite cereal. “That’s all you get of my cereal.”
“Whatevs.” She gives me her patented eye roll and shoves another spoonful in her mouth. With her mouth stuffed with Captain’s Crunch, I’m able to make out the words, “I’ll buy more.”
Pulling up the keyboard, I’m about to reply when she asks again, “Who are you talking about?”
“Lucky.”
The clink, clank of the spoon as it hits the counter draws my attention back to Deena. “Lucky?” she shrieks. “You talked to him? When? Where?”
I should’ve known this was going to happen. The girl is like a dog with a bone when she wants information. So, I set my phone down and tell her. “Outside. We chatted for a few minutes. I told him about my new job, and now he wants to pick me up and drive me in the morning.”
“He’s going to your class?” Deena’s face is half shock, half glee. If that’s even possible.
“He’d better not be.” No way would I be able to teach with Lucky in the room. I’m already terrified for tomorrow, even though I have Kelsey’s (the previous instructor) notebook with her workout routines listed out step-by-step. Even with those cheat sheets, if you will, I’m still super nervous. “I’ll kill him,” I mutter, but Deena still hears me.
“Incentive.”
“Incentive? For what?” Sometimes….
“To do your best.” She starts to play with her hair, and I start to worry. “Maybe I should come too, although I’m not a morning person,” she arches one brow, “as you know.”
“Oh, I know.” Trust me. She’s definitely not a morning person.
