Page 30 of Already Callin’ You Mine

Date? Presley has a…date?

My stomach clenches, a wave of jealousy washing over me. No, no. That’s not jealousy…it’s…

Fuck. Yeah, that’s jealousy. Shit.

“A date?” I choke out, unable to hold it in.

Who the fuck is she going out with? And why does that bother me so much?

“Yeah, that’s that thing where you ask someone to go do something with you. I realize it’s not something you’ve maybe ever personally experienced, but it’s actually quite the popular trend,” Presley snarks. Her voice is sweet, borderline saccharine, a matching smile spreading across her face. Batting her eyelashes, she gives me a sassy lift of one shoulder, making her dress shift just enough to give me a peak at her thigh.

Heaven help me…

“I know what a date is. I just don’t know anyone who would want to take you on one.”

“Believe it or not, Jace is actually the family romantic,” Milo chimes in.

“Doubt that,” Presley mutters.

Her phone chirps and she turns her attention to it. Unable to help myself, I close the gap between us so I can take a peek. Peering over her shoulder, I scan over the text conversation currently displayed on her screen.

Edgar:

I could make Wednesday work. You?

Sure. I have a meeting at Pour Decisions at 3:30. We could meet there? Say, 5p?

Sounds good

She’s going out with a guy named Edgar? What…is he eighty-six years old?

I scan down, eyes landing on the most recent message.

Edgar

Hey.

Hey? That’s what this dude says? Come up with a better line, sir.

Presley doesn’t seem to mind, her thumbs tapping out a response.

Hi. Just wrapping up my meeting. I’m the brunette at the bar in a sundress and cowboy boots.

She left out the part about how she looks good enough to eat. That her entire outfit and sassy demeanor is mouthwateringly cute, making her damn near irresistible. That willpower alone might not be enough.

A defense mechanism is absolutely necessary.

“Do you even know this dude?” My voice is harsh, judgy, and much louder than I intend. Presley jumps, not realizing how close I am now. “Do we need to add Internet safety to the list of things we’re going to cover? How to safely meet up with strangers?”

Presley glares at me. More daggers. No, actually, these might be laser beams. Ones she’s trying to drill a hole with straight through me. Can’t blame her there.

“I didn’t meet him on the Internet,” she defends. “Not that it’s any of your business, but our mothers are friends and thought we might hit it off.”

“Don’t worry, we got your back if he’s a creeper,” Milo says, pushing back from his spot on the bar and tossing a towel over his shoulder. “All three of us.”

Speak for yourself, big brother…

Her phone chirps again, a new message popping up. Presley tilts her phone away from me to read it, but she’s unsuccessful from completely obscuring my view. With six siblings, I’ve gotten very good at being a nosey ninja.