Family is supposed to be this magical fucking thing that makes everything better. That's the biggest lie ever told.
My skin feels too tight after dinner at Penn and Reagan's place. The twins—little hellspawn that they are—spent the entire evening screaming, throwing food, and using me as their personal jungle gym.
I love my family, but they are a lot to deal with, and their ragging on Reese and me tonight about sex set me over the edge.
The blood itch crawls under my skin like a thousand red ants, demanding to be fed. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my temples. I haven't said more than ten words since we left dinner. Reese doesn't push it. She never does. Just sits there next to me, legs tucked under her, occasionally glancing over when she thinks I won't notice.
I notice everything about her.
"I knowyou know I'm stressed the fuck out right now," I finally say, my voice rougher than intended. "And I never want to take that shit out on you." I run a hand through my hair, pulling slightly at the roots. "I usually go out with Copeland."
"Well, if you need to go out with him and do whatever you two do then go. I'm not gonna be someone who's gonna be up your ass and demand you stay here or something. We're best friends, have been for four years, and I've never done that, so don't act like you need to explain yourself to me now."
I study her face, the curve of her lips, the way her black hair falls across her collarbone. Fuck, I want her. Have always wanted her. She has no idea what going out with Copeland means. But she wants to, number five on her list screaming at me.
Find out where Ramsey disappears to every couple of months with Copeland.
I stare at her a beat too long, watching her pick at a loose thread on the couch. She has no fucking clue what she's asking for. But maybe that's exactly what I need right now—to show her a piece of me I've kept hidden.
"Fuck it," I mutter, standing abruptly. I reach down and grab her hand, pulling her up beside me. "C'mon."
Her eyes widen. "What? Where are we?—"
"You wanted to know where I go, right?" I turn my back to her, bending slightly at the knees. "Jump on."
"Are you serious?" She laughs, the sound hitting me right in the chest.
"Dead serious. Hop on, star."
She jumps on my back, her thighs squeezing around my waist as her arms loop around my neck. I hoist her higher, hands gripping under her knees as I carry her up the stairs to her bedroom.
I head straight for her closet, still carrying her.
"Ramsey, what the hell are you doing?" she asks through giggles as I start pushing hangers aside, scanning her clothes.
"Finding something for you to wear." I pull out a black top, examine it, then shove it back.
She slides off my back, standing beside me with her hands on her hips. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
I glance at her oversized St. Charles University sweatshirt and leggings. "Nothing, but I'm taking you with me this time, so we need to make sure you're dressed for it."
"Oh." The single syllable hangs between us, her eyes widening as she processes what I'm saying.
"You mean…where you go with Copeland?"
"Yes," I say, nodding while reaching into her closet. I grab a pair of black jeans and a white crop tank top, tossing them onto her bed.
I crouch down to rummage through her mountain of fucking shoes. The girl has more footwear than a department store. Finally, I pull out a pair of black lace-up boots.
When I turn around, Reese is jumping up and down, trying to pull her jeans on, her ass bouncing as the denim is forced over it.
"Wait, do it all over again so I can watch for longer," I say, not even trying to hide my smirk.
She freezes mid-jump, jeans halfway up her thighs, and shoots me a look. "You're disgusting."
I grin, all teeth. "If you want disgusting, I'd tell you to bend over so I can stick my tongue in your ass."
Her mouth drops open, cheeks flushing bright red. "Ramsey!"
