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“Dude, what the hell are you drinking?” Damien climbed up the ladder to sit next to me on the roof’s outcropping. My cousin looked like someone was giving him the run around, and I suspected it wasn’t the town cougar, Mrs. Landry and her pipes.
“Lavender Lemonade.” I took another long draft of the drink and wiped sweat off my brow.
It was sunny up on the roof and birds were circling in the distance. I sincerely hoped none of them were owls at this time of day. Taylor Jane was kind enough to call the Bird Trust at Mohonk and printed out every informational pamphlet she could. Whittaker, that asshole helped pin them up around the house as if I could miss them. Regular comedians those two, and now Damien was here, glancing in my direction as we sat in silence, up until dumbass started talking again.
“Pussy drink?”
“Nah, it’s good for headaches and calms my nerves up here on the roof.” I handed the premade drink bottle over to Damien, who had no qualms taking the biggest greedy ass gulp of my drink. He went for a second chug, pissing me off as he wiped his hand across his mouth like the slob I grew up with. I snatched it back like Gollum, annoyed and hoarding it. It was mine. Taylor Jane made it for me and I wasn’t sharing any more of it.
“What was that attitude for? That shit was good.” He reached for it, and I moved the bottle from his grasp, putting it on the other side of the roof. No way in hell was I giving him my drink.
“Go ask Taylor Jane how to make your own. This one is mine.” I swigged the rest of my purple lemonade, enjoying the cool liquid quenching my thirst. The jerk drank most of it, and she made it for me, not him. Old military rhetoric echoed in my mind. This lemonade is mine, there are many like it, but this one is mine. I wondered if I replaced that with Taylor Jane’s name how it would sound, but fuck-face sitting next to me kept talking and drew me out of my scandalous thoughts.
“Oh, I see how it is, Gollum.” Unfortunately he also knew me pretty well. “You won’t share your precious with me?” He was laughing and I hated him. Bitter thoughts puckered my face faster than a full lemon and he was relentless in his teasing.
I wondered if there was ever a time my cousin wasn’t trying to force a smile or laugh out of me at my own expense. My mother would have said he was a trickster and encouraged us to get along. Family was important to her and I considered these people here, Damien, Kristen, and Taylor Jane my family, but damn it, why did Damien have to be such a little shit all the time? Kristen was right, he was a demon.
“Shut up.” I didn’t look at him, hoping he’d go away. I took my hammer and nails, attempting to fix a roof shingle that was both
ering me and as I hit the nail it bent like my waning patience.
“Oooh, it’s like that, Hunter, eh?”
Yes, actually it was like that because there was only one Taylor Jane and I wanted her to be mine even if I shouldn’t, even if it was unhealthy for both of us. I pulled the nail out to start again while Damien tried to be a smartass and rib on me. The temptation to push him back was huge if we weren’t sitting up here on the second story of the house at the moment. Times like this I wished Taylor Jane had the power washer again and I hadn’t locked it up at my house in the garage for safekeeping, far out of her reach.
“You are so fucking smiling. Dude, go down there and tap that ass.”
My smile turned into a scowl and I was ticked off that Damien wouldn’t leave well enough alone. Yeah, family or not, I would fuck him up if he touched her.
“Shut it and go grab me those shingles for this section of the roof.” I pointed to the other side of where we were working. If he was out of my reach I wouldn’t try to maim him. He was slow getting up and I stood feeling my foot wanting to tap with impatience.
“Hey, boys, I brought some lunch, come on down.” Taylor Jane had stuck her head outside the dormer window up here and cupped her hands over her eyes to shield out the sun. Her hair was pulled back in a low ponytail. Cute. Perfect for tugging on, but I didn’t go there.
“I’ll be right there. I just want to finish this line of shingles.”
“Perfect.” Her head bobbed back inside and I waited until she was out of sight.
“Sounds good.” Damien waved at her, too friendly in my opinion, and I smacked him in the chest, earning me an ooof sound that gave me some satisfaction.
Rubbing his chest, he glowered. “What the fuck, man?”
I was perversely glad my hit stung him. “I can wave at Taylor Jane, not you. Don’t do it again or you better find some damn wings up here.” I grabbed the shingles myself, ignoring Damien’s peals of laughter. I kind of hoped he tripped just enough to prairie dog the shit out of his ass as he swaggered away finding another project to tackle.
“Besides, you’re a plumber; your ass crack doesn’t belong on my roof,” I told him, nailing in more shingles along my line I was finishing up.
“Oh, come on, Hunter. Why do you have to be like that?” Damien trailed after me and picked a few shingles.
“Nail them in straight.”
“You refuse to talk about this?”
“There is nothing for us to talk about.”
“Right, because you’re not after the girl you’ve crushed on for like ten years.”
“Don’t make me piss your mother off when I have to kill you.”
“Hunter, she’s probably wondering why you haven’t tried to do it already.”
