Page 49 of Changing Lanes

“Well, you know I love you like my own sister.”

Dixon wraps me in a bear hug and I snuggle in, desperate for real contact, not the kind Beckett and I exchange as punishment.

“You don’t have a sister,” I mumble against his chest.

“But if I did, I’d want her to be just like you. Except without a smart mouth, or a penchant for finding trouble, or a drinking problem.” I pull back to glare at him. “A one day a week drinking problem,” he clarifies and I allow it because he’s not wrong per se. “Otherwise, yeah, just like you.”

His words have the desired effect and I end up smirking despite myself. What a jerk.

I missed him.

“About this roommate…do you want anything done about that?”

Cranking my neck, I look him in the eye. “Like what? Did you join the mafia or something?”

“No, but I know people. Or one simple phone call and I know the Christensen boys would show up swinging.”

“One call from you maybe.”

He looks at me pointedly and I know what he’s saying, but crying to my brothers would only cause more problems. They’d force me to move out and think they have a say over my life again. I have to find some sort of happy medium where all four brothers are in my life without them ruling my decisions.

As for Beckett, some space might be good for us. His spiel today was flat out vindictive but I’ve done my fair share of riling him up, too. I’m not innocent by any means. Being at each other’s throats, literally, is wearing me down even if I’d never admit it to him. Living with four older brothers, you learn to concede only when it benefits you.

So, I take Dixon up on his offer to stay with him and for the rest of the day I help out at Xen’s until my own shift at Sunbrook, pushing everything else from my mind.

Everything but that mouth of Beckett’s. Whispered threats disguised as empty promises that’ll stay with me for a very long time.

Which is one reason why I’m backing off for a while—I need a place I won’t remember, not somewhere I’ll never forget.

CHAPTER 12

Paige

“Get out of here,” I whisper harshly. “No, please. Please, don’t touch me.”

Remind me never to stay with Dixon again. The guy has ferrets. Plural. Basically two vermin that roam freely around the house, hiding in the couch cushions waiting to pop out as you walk by, and sneak your things right out from under you. They also love to rub against you like goddamn cats. I may not have had an allergy to ferrets when I first got here a few days ago but I damn well have one now. Every time the stretched out rats touch me, I itch the rest of the day.

I have work later though and I’m down to my last pair of scrubs so I’m extra wary of them touching me today. Dixon takes his laundry to his mom’s house, no joke, for her to wash but I refuse to make another woman clean my underwear. Although Dixon’s always been like family, I never saw him in his own element, and now that I have I’m starting to see him in a whole new light. A smelly, lazy light that flickers from underuse.

Gin rubs on my left leg while Tonic tries to sneak up the opening on my right pants leg. As soon as I feel her soft fur touch my leg I start itching.

“Damn you!” I grit, finally scaring the critters away.

“What happened?”

I’m sniffling and massaging my irritated eyes with the palms of my hands when Dixon comes into the kitchen, looking fresh as a daisy.

“Your pets got their allergens all over me. I can’t go to work like this.” I motion to my entire body.

“You look fine.”

Typical.

How else are we supposed to say it? If we don’t feel good, we don’t look good. Period. Looking fine has nothing to do with it.

“How are you getting to work anyway?”

“What do you mean?”