AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s the only thing he can pretend to cook,” I inform the girl (Sarah?) and sit down to enjoy a plate of lopsided pancakes.
Red shakes her head. “You guys are weird,” she declares.
I really want her to go because I’m not about to relive last night, which I’m sure involved a lot of drinking and even more sloppy kissing. This is how my one-night stands always go, anyway. They get a glimpse at Parker, and his artsy-fartsy charm is too much for them to handle.
Sure, they’re attracted to my broody nature at first. Girls love a bad boy, and I’m more than eager to give them what they want if it means burying my cock in sweet, wet pussy. But in the mornings, girls like Red don’t want the brooding, jealous, possessive type. They want a sweet, darling, precious artist like my brother.
“Bye, Sarah,” I say sweetly. Time for you to go, sweets.
“It’s Kara,” she says with venom in her voice. Oops. She looks over my shoulder at Parker and winks at him. “I should’ve at least chosen the hotter brother.”
Parker cracks up again as she finally leaves.
“Your face!” he says between bursts of laughter. “When she said that!”
I roll my eyes and make my way to the fridge to get some milk. I pour myself a glass, but before I can lift it to my lips, Parker’s stolen it, taking deep gulps of the liquid.
After Sarah—or Kara, or whatever the hell her name is—leaves, we sit down to breakfast. Like we’re a normal family and not the sad remains of what we used to be.
Parker proudly presents me with more misshapen pancakes, and I fake enthusiasm as I dig in. Honestly, they’re not as bad as they look, and I desperately need some food in me to fight the impending hangover.
I only remember last night vaguely, and that’s been happening far too often. Booze, drugs, and fucking. That’s what my nights have been about. And then in the mornings, I fight off hangovers with my brother’s greasy concoctions before leaving for work in the hope of making enough cash to get us through the month.
I’m a motherfucking mess.
Parker doesn’t hesitate to tell me so, either.
“You’ve been out every night this week,” Parker complains. “I watched TV without you. You missed our favorite show. It’s like you don’t even want to be my brother anymore. Like we’re not a family anymore.” He glares accusingly at me, which I choose to ignore.
But the man is right. We’re not a family anymore. The Millers and Wildfoxes have gone their separate paths. We lost June, and if I’m not careful, we’re going to lose each other, too.
“And then you drag that back home with you,” Parker continues, jerking his head toward the door where the redhead left through earlier. I keep my head down and eat my pancakes, not saying a word. To fight with him means to let him win because he won’t stop until he has the last word.
“I wonder where you go every night,” Parker ponders out loud. “A whorehouse?” He smirks as I give off a loud sigh, finally having enough of his speculations. “How much did you pay Little Red Riding Hood to suck your dick, I wonder?”
“I went to a bar.” I offer the smallest fact possible to hopefully make him shut up, but of course, I should’ve known better. He latches on to any information I give him, desperately scrambling for more. “Nothing special. Same as every night.”
“And not once did you offer to take me with you,” he says, glaring at me.
It’s true. I don’t take Parker out when I leave the house. Why would I? He’d just cramp my goddamn style. And a part of me still believes I can protect him from the bullshit I have to do every day. I still remember the promise I made to our father years ago—I’d watch over Parker no matter what. Despite the minute difference between when we entered the world, I’m the older one. The responsible one. I’m supposed to take care of the kid.
“What do you order at a bar?” Parker wonders out loud, flicking a stray cereal flake at my head. One of these days, I swear. “Trashy redheads!” he shouts at the top of his lungs when I refuse to provide an answer, and I slam my fist on the table.
“Can you please?” I grunt at him, feeling defeated and deflated at the same time. “I’m tired, my head’s fucking throbbing, and I really cannot deal with you right now. I’m late to work as it is.”
“An hour and thirty minutes,” Parker cheerfully reminds me, and at that moment, I want to fucking punch him in his overly cheery, handsome face that mirrors mine.
Because I’m the only one of us with a real job.
