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It had also been the first time I’d realized that he was the other half of me. The first time I’d realized just how blind I’d been. That I’d held tight to my crush on Curtis because he’d felt safer. Curtis would never look at me that way. He’d never reciprocate anything and if he had, I’d have lost all interest.
Draco was scarier. He’d had the power to devastate me and the chance of him doing so had been so high. By focusing on Curtis, I’d been able to ignore the way my chest felt like it was going to cave in every time Draco had detailed one of his exploits.
I looked up at the sleeping face just inches from mine. New bruises were darkening his cheeks and jaw.
Draco still had the power to bring my world crashing down around me.
Chapter 8
Draco
“Wake up,” Kara said, her elbow digging into my stomach as she rolled away from me.
“I’m awake,” I replied groggily. I’d slept surprisingly well, considering I was in an unfamiliar twin sized bed.
People lied when they said size didn’t matter. I’d promised myself when I got out of prison, I’d never again sleep in a bed the size of a coffin—and I hadn’t. The first purchase I’d made was one of those king sized mattress that they shipped to your house in a box.
“My parents are home,” Kara said, gesturing at me to get my ass up.
“My truck’s out front, baby,” I said as I sat up, gingerly rubbing my eyes. Fuck that hurt. “They know I’m here.”
“Well, they don’t know you’re in my bed,” she hissed. “Get up.”
“We’re home,” Rose called gleefully from somewhere outside the bedroom.
“Jesus,” Kara moaned, covering her face. “This is going to be painful.”
I laughed. Kara’s stepmom was my cousin, or maybe second cousin? Something like that. Her aunt and uncle were my grandparents. So I knew as well as Kara just how the next few minutes were going to go. There’d never been a situation that Rose didn’t want to make more awkward than anyone thought was possible.
“Let’s get it over with,” I said, getting to my feet. I rounded the bed and reached for Kara, which had her skittering away nervously.
“Hands to yourself,” she mumbled, making me grin. “Oh, God, does it still smell like sex in here?”
“No, we’re good,” I lied.
I followed her out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind me when she glared over her shoulder.
“Relax,” I said quietly as we headed down the hallway.
“You relax,” she snapped back, her shoulders perfectly straight.
“Well, hello, Draco,” Rose said, rounding the corner from the kitchen. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Kara said under her breath.
“Hey, Rose,” I replied.
“We brought you guys dinner,” she said with a smile.
So she’d known I’d be headed to her house after Grease and my dad had broken up the fight at Callie’s.
“Thanks,” Kara said, moving toward the kitchen. “Where’s Dad?”
“Right here,” Mack said from the kitchen table. His eyes met mine and I felt myself straightening my shoulders. Shit.
He’d practically given me a green light when we’d spoken at my grandparents’ house earlier in the day, but apparently, he was seeing things a bit differently now that he’d found me at his house, alone with his daughter.
Mack’s lips quirked when he realized his stare had the intended effect.
“Where are the boys?” Kara asked as she walked toward the pile of to-go containers on the counter.
“Heather took them to her house,” Rose replied as she followed. “It was pretty much a cluster as everyone was leaving. This kid wanted to go to this kid’s house, that kid wanted to go there, on and on. Your dad eventually caved and we ended up with no kids.”
“Except your favorite,” Kara replied.
“You wipe your own ass,” Rose said, grabbing a couple of plates out of the cupboard. “You’re automatically the favorite.”
“Brody wipes his own ass,” Kara said, laughing.
“True,” Rose replied. “But try getting his stinky ass to shower.”
“How you feelin’?” Mack asked.
I stopped, standing in the middle of the kitchen like an asshole before sitting down across from him at the table. “Sore as fuck.”
“I bet,” he laughed. “Strange seein’ a fight so perfectly matched.”
I scoffed.
“It was like watchin’ a man fight himself,” he joked some more.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Between you and me?” he said, tilting his head a little. “You were wailin’ on him. I’d never call your brother soft, but—” He shrugged.
“There’s a difference between learnin’ to fight against people not tryin’ to hurt ya, and learnin’ to fight with people who do,” I said quietly, glancing at the women, who were having their own conversation.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Mack said knowingly. “Also helps that he was defendin’ himself and you were tryin to beat the shit out of him.”
“He got some of his own in,” I said, moving my jaw from side to side.
