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“She’s my fucking sister!”
“And I’m also taken,” I chimed in, and Deacon did a dramatic move like I’d just wounded him. “Don’t act like you’re hurt, how many different girls have you been with this week alone, Deacon?”
“Three,” he responded immediately, and a wry smile crossed his face when the doorbell rang. “And that would be number two coming back again.”
“You’re gross, and obviously not brokenhearted.”
Grabbing the back of my head, he landed a loud kiss on my forehead before dodging Graham’s fist and backing up toward the entryway. “I’ll always be brokenhearted when it comes to you, Grey LaRue,” he teased.
“I fucking hate my roommates,” Graham growled once Deacon had disappeared.
Turning to look at him, I raised one eyebrow and walked over to plop down on one of the couches. “No you don’t, and I don’t know why you had me come here when you know they’re going to act the way they do.” I looked around for a second before asking, “Speaking of, where’s Knox?”
“Gone. Thank God. I don’t think I’d be able to stop from punching one of them if they were both here.”
“Once again: I don’t know why you had me come here when you know how they always act.”
Knox and Deacon had been Graham’s best friends since middle school, and after years of partying together in a fraternity, they all decided they weren’t ready to settle down or give up the party. They bought a large house in Thatch, and continued to live like frat boys.
Both were hand
some in a way that had women of all ages turning to look at them, and they knew it. Their egos as well as Graham’s added up to a recipe for destruction for any girl who entered their lives, and many did. I’d grown up with Knox and Deacon and viewed them as two more obnoxious brothers to deal with, but Graham never seemed to get the memo that we all viewed each other as siblings. Knowing his annoyance at my involvement with Ben and Jagger, both Knox and Deacon had been declaring their “love” for me since I was sixteen just to piss him off, and six years later, it still worked.
Deacon walked back into the living room with a busty, black-haired girl against his side, and shot me a wink as they continued on to the hallway leading to his room.
I gestured toward the hallway they’d disappeared in and whispered to Graham, “At least he’s starting to go for girls outside of Thatch. The three of you have half the female population simultaneously hating you and waiting for another chance to be with you.” Graham laughed, and I slapped at his arm. “It’s not funny. Do you know how often I get asked about one of you, or receive phone numbers from women wanting you to call them again ‘just in case you lost it’? It’s annoying.”
“Come on, you haven’t even been back in Thatch for a total of a month and a half when you take out your trip to Seattle. It can’t be that bad yet.”
I didn’t respond to that, I just gave him a look telling him he was so wrong.
“And I wanted you here because I’m hiding from Mom,” he continued.
“Wait, what? Why?”
“Haven’t you heard her lately? Or have you been too wrapped up in your new relationship.”
I opened my mouth to deny that, and smiled when I realized I couldn’t.
“Exactly.”
“Oh, whatever. Tell me why you’re hiding.”
Graham groaned and got comfortable on the couch. “She wants me to move out of here and get my own place, without a roommate, and she’s trying to get me to settle down. She has a new list of eligible girls every time I come over or talk to her.”
“Eligible?” I asked on a laugh. “Oh my God, are you serious?”
He sat up and tried to imitate Mom’s voice. “ ‘They’re single and absolutely darling girls. You’d be lucky to be with any one of them; besides, they’re not like the floozies you normally date.’ ”
I laughed harder and had to wait until I could breathe normally before asking, “Floozies? She really says that?”
“Now you see why I’m hiding?”
“A little,” I admitted.
“She acts like I’m in my midthirties or something. She just keeps saying all the good ones will be gone by the time I realize I’m ready to settle down, so she’s trying to help me see what I’m missing. I’m only twenty-four.”
“Or maybe she’s saying that because she’s secretly hoping you’ll stop whoring yourself around.”
