Her dark hair is tied back in a long braid that hangs over one shoulder. It’s sweet, like she is most of the time. The perfect eldest daughter in the Elliott family, always playing the part her father clearly wants her to. Except, today she’s paired her black cowboy boots and hat with a rock band T-shirt. And that little tease of her personality is exactly why I can’t stop thinking about this girl.
What would it be like to see her stop playing the good girl for once?
Kincaid stands up tall, plastering a charming grin on his face. “Damn, you look good today, Willa.”
“You say that to all the girls.” Her cheeks blush as her eyes dart between us, and while I’d like to think it’s because of me, I haven’t missed how much time she’s been spending with my brother.
Something her father seems to approve of, no matter how overprotective he is of his daughters. Willa’s father and Tate have been growing closer lately. At first, I figured it was because assholes tend to gravitate to other assholes when making friends. But they’ve been walking both properties, and I can’t help thinking it might be more about business.
I wonder if Grandpa knows what they might be up to.
Willa frowns when her gaze falls to the pack of cigarettes sitting on the bed of the truck beside me. Her stormy eyes dull.
“You’re still smoking?”
“Did he ever stop?” Kincaid chuckles, tossing the pack at me.
I catch it and tuck it into my pocket, ignoring both their judgment. “Who’s going to the Abbott party tonight?”
“That’s a college party.” Willa rests her hip against the truck bed.
“So? Those are the best ones.”
“You mean the ones with free booze.” Kincaid shakes his head. “Mom will kill you.”
“Mom won’t notice.”
She’s barely left her bed lately. It’s one of the reasons I need to get out of that house. I can’t breathe there. All we dois sit around and wait. I don’t know what’s worse, waiting or what will inevitably come of it.
“Fine, Dad will kill you then.” Kincaid hitches an eyebrow, trying to look out for me, even though he knows it never does me any good.
“Tate can go fuck himself.”
Kincaid and Willa share a look.
Sympathy?
Judgment?
I don’t know what it is, but I hate it.
“I can’t go.” Willa frowns.
“Worried you’ll get in trouble with Daddy?”
Her gray eyes light with anger. Her lips purse. “No.”
“Liar.” I chuckle, closing the bed of the truck. “Whatever. You guys have fun studying or doing whatever it is you do on a Saturday night.”
“I’m going to the movies with a couple of guys from the team. Want to tag along?” Kincaid looks at Willa, asking her out indirectly because he still hasn’t figured out that he can get just about any girl in this town.
Including her, which pisses me off.
She drags her lower lip between her teeth. “I’ll think about it.”
“Sounds good. Text me.”
She nods, twisting her toe in the dirt. So I pull out a cigarette and light it because that’s all that’s going to calm whatever’s stirring in my chest, watching them fall all over each other.
