“Woah!” Lance says when Mikayla adjusts herself in the seat.
“The man has at least seventy pounds on me! I’m not stupid!” Mikayla says, a crease forming between her brows. “Did you actually think I was gonna punch him?” She laughs, rolling her eyes.
“You looked pissed. I don’t know. I wouldn’t put it past you,” Lance says.
“She still hasn’t answered my question,” Kyle says.
“Because it’s a bullshit question.” Mikayla lifts her chin.
“Dude, don’t anger it…” Lance whispers, nudging him.
“You know, I’ve had a shit day. If this is going to be dick hour, I’ll let you know now, I have no problem getting up and leaving,” Mikayla says.
“Your mom?” Patrick asks.
“How do you know?” I ask. I may sound a bit accusatory.
“I listened to her the lasttime she was in town,” he answers defensively.
“I don’t want to rehash it. I just want a drink and a good dinner. My patience for assholes is maxed,” Mikayla adds.
I look up and smile as a bottle of wine is brought to the table with beers for me and my brothers.
“So, who has the best embarrassing story about Caine?” Mikayla asks as she brings the wine to her lips.
“I thought you were protective of him?” Kyle asks, quirking a brow.
“Oh, I won’t have you be vicious. You were a dick. But this is fun; that’s the difference,” she smiles sweetly, tilting her head.
“So, once, when Caine was on the road…”
“Shut the fuck up now…” I say, my voice low, serious, angry as I take in my baby brother.
“Oh, shh… this has to be good if he’s that upset,” Mikayla laughs, lowering my hand.
I don’t know why I fought it so hard. I should have known they’d get the stories in.
By the end of dinner, Mikayla is definitely drunk. But she’s laughing, and I can see it’s real, genuine joy in her eyes. If hearing embarrassing stories about me makes her this happy, who am I to take this from her.
“I can’t believe your mother walked in on you with three women! Jesus, you really were a man whore!” Mikayla looks half horrified while she laughs at me.
“In my defense, I hadn’t invited them to my hotel room; they just showed up,” I argue.
“I’m sure you were inconsolable,” she replies, rolling her eyes at me. But the joy is fading.
“Caine peed the bed until he was seven,” Patrick mutters out of nowhere.
A burst of laughter escapes Mikayla’s lips before she slams both hands over her mouth.
“That’s a blatant lie!” I accuse, pointing my finger at my little brother.
“Yeah, but it got her to laugh,” Patrick says, pointing and smiling at Mikayla. She reaches over the table, and they clasp hands.
“Thank you,” she mouths to him. And he bows his head.
“So, Caine, should we call Pamela over to wipe that frown off your face?” Lance asks, laughing and clapping his hands.
No one laughs; everyone just stares at him.
