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What would he think when he found out I wanted to change my major? He won’t ever know if you don’t get the balls to actually do it. So far I was all talk, and I fucking hated that about myself. I didn’t understand it, why it was so hard for me to stand up to him. Why the thought of disappointing him still made nausea boil in my gut and my heart thud against my chest.
Brax turned toward me, wrapped an arm around my waist and buried his face in my neck. I was falling for him. Hell, there was a good chance I’d already fallen. I’d liked hearing Matilda call us boyfriends. I wanted to be with him for real, to take some of the pressure off him because Brax felt like he had to take care of everyone. He did it with his grandma and even with Asher. He let his brother get away with anything and covered for him with Matilda. Even today, he’d made some bullshit excuse for why Asher still hadn’t been by.
I heard something hit the wall in the living room, then the clomp-clomp of numerous sets of feet, followed by loud voices, laughter, and music. Asher partied a lot. He never gave a shit if Brax was sleeping or studying or anything else.
The noise didn’t quiet over the next few minutes. If anything, it got louder. Brax groaned in his sleep and rolled away from me. I was familiar enough with his sleeping patterns that I knew he’d wake up soon.
As gently as I could, I climbed out of bed, tugged on my pants, and slipped out the door. There were at least ten people in the living room, two women dancing with each other while Asher and another guy sat at the table with a bottle of whiskey between them.
Maybe this was stupid because I didn’t know how much of a prick Asher was or wasn’t, and I was clearly outnumbered, but I walked over to him. “Dude…do you think you guys can keep it down? Brax is sleeping, and he has a test tomorrow.”
Asher glanced up at me. “No.” The guy with him cackled.
It was official—I really hated his brother. “Why are you such a dick? Brax and your grandma carry all the bills on this place. Brax has to keep food in his room, or he’ll buy something only to have it eaten before he gets the chance. You don’t go and see Matilda or realize how hard your brother works between school and his job. He’s actually trying to make something of his life. Is it too much to ask to let him have a good night’s sleep?”
“Who the fuck is this clown?” his buddy asked.
“Brax’s girlfriend,” Asher replied, and they guffawed obnoxiously, before his gaze zeroed in on me. “Me and my brother don’t have shit to do with you. Mind your business. Next time, I won’t be so nice about it.” There was a hard edge to his gaze.
This was a totally different Asher than the dopey, playful one I’d met before. Still, I wasn’t afraid of him. “Fuck you. Brax is my business.”
When his buddy chuckled, something even darker passed through Asher’s eyes. It was clear he didn’t appreciate feeling like he was being laughed at. He shoved to his feet. Before he could do or say anything else, Brax was there, pushing between us, going head-to-head with Asher.
“Bro, control your boy. He’s out here bitching about shit that has nothing to do with him.” Asher snickered like none of this was a big deal.
Well, at least he called me Brax’s boyfriend this time.
“Don’t fucking talk to him the way you were, and don’t threaten him. Ever. You won’t like how I respond if you do.”
At that, Asher seemed to hesitate. Apparently, he didn’t want to mess with Brax, which surprised me. “He’s the one coming out here and talking shit to me in my own house. All we’re trying to do is have a good time.”
Brax shook his head and moved beside me. “You’re so fucking clueless.”
“You’re such a poser, playing house with your rich boyfriend, pretending you’re better than us, that you’ll ever be anything more than you are. You know he doesn’t really give a shit about you, right? You’re a phase for him, and once he’s done with you, you’ll be stuck here, not doing shit with your life, and he’ll move on to someone Mommy and Daddy approve of.”
My heart clenched. I hoped Brax didn’t believe that. “You don’t know shit about us,” I said.
Brax shoved his brother. “Fuck. You.” Then he grabbed my hand and pulled me with him back to his room. “Jesus… I hate him. He reminds me of my dad so fucking much sometimes.” He paced the room, hands opening and closing into fists.
