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Honestly, other than scaring the crap out of me, Bayou didn’t look like he suffered from any problems.
But he remembered exactly who I was and what I’d done. That I’d seen right off the bat.
“I’m not sure that he likes me and Hoax hanging out,” I admitted, feeling my stomach clench for some reason at the thought. “If I were to go out there right now, he’d glare at me the whole time.”
She snorted. “Leave that to me. Let’s go talk.”
I immediately shook my head.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I confessed.
I swallowed. That was the last thing I wanted to do.
After dinner the other night, Hoax hadn’t made a single effort to come see or talk to me. It’d been three entire days, and nothing.
Granted, I hadn’t made a move, either. But still. Women weren’t supposed to be the ones to make contact. Were they?
I deflated slightly at that.
“Come on, you little shy shit. Let’s go.” She tugged on my wrist, dislodging me from the blinds where I’d been spying, and pulled me outside.
Though had I really not wanted to go, things would’ve been a whole lot different since I had thirty pounds and two inches on my sister.
Granted, that really wasn’t saying anything since I was only five foot four, but still.
“What are we going to do?” I hissed at her as we walked.
“We’re going to go over there and talk to them,” she said matter-of-factly. “Oh, wow. They sure do look better the closer we get.”
She was right.
Bayou had his shirt off now, too. And I realized rather quickly that where Hoax had no tattoos but the one on his inner bicep, Bayou had them everywhere. They weren’t on his hands or neck up, but they were everywhere else. There was almost not a single piece of his skin on his left side that wasn’t covered in tattoos. The only reason his right side wasn’t covered was likely due to the fact that he was still working on filling out the left first. I was fairly positive that he’d get to the right side eventually.
“Hey, y’all!” Phoebe chirped, causing both men to stop what they were doing and look over at us.
Hoax wasn’t surprised in the least to be seeing us—he’d likely heard us come out of the house because we hadn’t been quiet about it. Bayou, however, did look surprised. And he didn’t look welcoming, either.
I hastily turned my gaze away from Bayou and examined Hoax.
There was something different about him.
“Hey, darlin’,” Hoax drawled. “I see you finally drug your sister out of the window.”
I blushed nine shades of red and looked at him guiltily.
He winked at me and stepped away from the truck to grab the hose. From there he sprayed off his side and then Bayou’s when he’d stepped back.
“Y’all do realize that it’s supposed to rain tonight, don’t you?” I blurted out.
Even now I could see clouds rolling in.
“My cousin borrowed it yesterday. When she returned it, there was bird shit covering almost every available square inch. It needed to be washed,” he justified.
That explained why both his truck and his bike had been gone. I’d wondered how the hell that happened and why, but with me not having the lady balls to go over there and ask him, I’d been left in the dark.
“Why wouldn’t she have washed it herself?” Phoebe asked bluntly. “Seems like the person that borrows it should also be the one to restore it. When I borrow my dad’s truck, I bring it back with a full tank of gas and a fresh wash.”
“Because Brielle is a little butthead.” Hoax shrugged. “And she doesn’t think about anybody but herself.”
I bit my tongue as not to agree or disagree with him and cause Bayou to hate me even more. But secretly, I was agreeing wholeheartedly with him.
“Do you remember me?” Phoebe blurted.
I turned to find her standing in front of Bayou, staring up at him with her hands on her hips.
“Yep,” he agreed, not offering anything more than that.
“Cool,” she said. “Well, I’m going to go.”
Bayou and I both frowned at her. Hoax only shook his head and laughed quietly.
When I went to leave with her, Hoax curled his large hand around the waistband of my jeans and tugged.
I instantly stiffened and turned, as much as I could anyway, to find him staring at me with a smile on his face.
“Not so fast,” he ordered. “I’m almost done, and then we can go out to eat.”
“I don’t think going out to eat is what’s best for you,” I told him, testing his grip. “But I gotta go. My sister needs help with a few more things.”
“No, I don’t!” she called out. “I only wanted to see why you were pouting. You wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”
I growled at her, causing both Phoebe and the man still holding my pants to chuckle.
