Page 156 of Forever Relentless

I looked up and around. He and Dante were across the street. Both were wearing sunglasses; only one was facing this way.

“Shit.”

I picked up my phone.

Me: I’m eating. Go away.

Me: Also, stalking is so lame

I looked out of the corner of my eye as I took a huge bite of waffle and bacon. Pretending I couldn’t see him.

He read my text, hit Dante on the arm, and the two of them walked away from where I was.

I carried on eating, refusing to acknowledge that my mood had lifted. I took a drink of my iced tea. Maybe I’d overreacted this morning.

Hadley, Noah, and my brother were in a clique. Was it really that much of a stretch to believe it? One was eager, one was determined, and one was volatile. Which one was which depended on the hour.

After brunch, I went for a walk to work off the amount of food I’d managed to pack away. I like walking. It clears my head. My thoughts are always more focused after a good walk. My feet did the thinking, and I embraced it.

Halfway home, I texted my brother.

Me: Just don’t do something stupid. They’re students. There could be repercussions for this.

He finally answered.

Mason: I’m hardly going to name and shame them, Bri. I’m not a fucking asshole.

Me: You’ve ignored me all morning. You ARE a fucking asshole.

Mason: Boo hoo. You fucked the STUDENT? What repercussions are there for THAT?

Ugh, I resented that he knew this. He would never let me live this down. I called him. Surprise, surprise, he answered.

“Big sister.”

“Asshat.”

His low chuckle made me smile. “What were you thinking?” I asked him as I walked.

“He was all full of fire and fierceness, what can I say? Your boy toy talked sense.”

I was already shaking my head. “No. Nuh-uh. Not calling him ‘boy toy.’”

“Fuck buddy?”

“Mason!”

He laughed. “C’mon sis, you never fuck up. Ever. Let me enjoy this.”

I frowned. “Why is this considered a fuckup?” I toyed with the hem of my sweater as I walked. “I mean, it’s not like he’s in high school.”

“Yeah, but he’s younger than you, you’re ahead of him in where you are in life. He’s still in college and you have a full-time job. He has no income, he still lives with his parents. He’s . . . fuck Bri, he’s me.”

I pulled the phone so fast from my ear to glare at it, then almost dropped it as I hissed in protest.

“That’s the most awful thing you could ever say to me,” I complained.

“What? It’s true. He’s tall, dark-haired, fit, plays defense, has fuck all responsibility . . . He’s exactly like me.”