I hold up my hand, and he stops talking. “That was before you ruined my very first date.”
Lucky blinks at me.
“Yeah. That’s right. Myfirstdate. For some inexplicable reason, you and Deena thought it’d be hilarious to screw it up. You strolled into the bar, plopped down at my table, and took over, making it all about you.” Saying this out loud is making me angry all over again.
“Becklyn, I—”
Waving him off, I finish by saying, “You broke some sort of code.” I don’t know what you’d call it, but he did. “A friendship code or something.”
“Becklyn…”
I shake my head, because I’m done.
And I’m sad. I’m very, very sad.
23
Lucky
How in thehell did I fuck this up so badly?
Oh, I know. It was when I decided to show up on what I now know was her first fucking date, turning it from something special into something more like a joke. Little did I know she would take it this way—as a betrayal. Because that’s what this is to her. I know it. I did something that now seems irreparable. I’ve damaged us. And I have no idea how to fix it.
* * *
“What’s up with Becks?”Joe asks me as he pulls a beer from my fridge. He’s been here two days now and we’ve seen Becklyn once, by accident. I’ve sent her multiple texts letting her know her brother is in town, and the only response I’ve gotten is “Okay. Thanks.”
“She’s busy.” While I’m sure she is busy, I don’t honestly believe that’s the reason she’s blowing Joe off. It’s because she doesn’t want to see me.
Joe makes a scoffing sound. “Doing what?”
“Working. I told you she teaches the 5:00 AM KB class now.”
“Yeah?” His response makes me wonder if he’s been paying any attention to my messages.
“Yeah.”
“Bet she’s hilarious to watch.”
What the fuck is his deal? “She’s great, actually. They had to move her class to the large studio, it’s so popular.”
Flopping onto my sofa, Joe snickers. “Everyone loves to watch a train wreck.”
“No.” I shake my head. “She’s really good.” The only thing that’s going to change his mind about this is to see it for himself. “We’ll go in the morning. You’ll see.”
“Fuck that, man. I’m not getting up at the ass-crack of dawn to watch my sister crash and burn.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “You don’t know jack about your sister.”
“And you do?” Joe’s left brow is almost up to his hairline. His receding hairline.
“Yeah, man. I do.”
He stares at me for several long seconds. All he’s doing is blinking. And thinking. Anger flashes across his face, and I know what’s coming. “You fuckin’ my sister, Lucky?”
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m not.”
Joe slowly stands, placing the beer can on the coffee table. Without a coaster. “You got a thing for my sister.”
