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“Tate gets to break tradition,” I point out.
“Tate shot me in the ass twice,” George grinds out with his predictable argument.
I can’t say much. I made the same argument a few days ago.
Piper is on my couch and wearing my sweats. Tonight’s the night she’ll finally give me some sort of cue to kiss her. I just know it.
“I’m not going,” I tell him more firmly.
He’ll back down. Everyone backs down from me.
“Your momma is on her way out here to clean up your place. I’ll let her deal with—”
“That’s low,” I grind out, narrowing my eyes as the prick smirks.
“Tradition is tradition. We’ve been doing this since you boys were old enough to carry your own guns,” he fires back.
“Don’t let me stop you from doing something you’ve already planned,” Piper calls from the couch.
George grins.
I shove by him and shut the door, deciding to level with him, since he’s using Ma against me.
“She’s here for less than a month, and she’s the first damn girl who’s shown any interest in me in a long damn time,” I say as quietly as I can.
“She’s also way out of your league, and you boys are both getting attached to girls who aren’t gonna stick around. I think it’s best if you not look so desperate,” he states with zero apology in his tone, quirking an eyebrow as though he feels sorry for me.
I bristle, not liking that look one damn bit. I happen to enjoy my pride, and now I feel as low as Krysta Nickel.
Damn Piper. Why is that girl in my head so much? And why does she have to play so hard to get?
“I just want to enjoy her while I can. It’s rare I find someone who doesn’t annoy me,” I state in recovery.
He pushes me out of his way and pokes his head inside. “Hey, Piper, we do this five-day hunt every year. Care to tack on an extra five days so Kai will go without worrying about how much time he’s wasting?” he calls out.
I close my eyes and swallow a groan. If he hadn’t been sneaking around with my mother for the past several years and making her happy, I would lay him out right now. As it is, Ma would kill me.
I think George knows that I know that he’s Ma’s secret boyfriend. I’ve dreaded this day for too many years to bother remembering. It’ll change the dynamic of our relationship if he admits he knows that I know.
He’s already effectively using Ma against me to get his way without being obvious about it.
“Um…I think Reese must have already decided that for us, since I just managed to get a text from her that she apparently sent a couple of hours ago. Along with thirty others that are demanding I respond, so…sure. I guess.”
George gives me a disappointed look as he shuts the door again.
“Hale Vincent has her sister wrapped around his little pinky, and you’re getting, ‘Sure. I guess.’ Your mother is going to be so disappointed in you,” George tells me with the most serious expression he can muster.
I see the fucking humor dancing in his cruel eyes though.
My own eyes narrow on his, and I head in, slamming the door in his face. I hear a pained grunt escape him, which means I managed to nail him with the door at least.
Silver linings are hard to find in this situation.
Piper peers up at me from the couch, and I go to drop down by her side.
“I’ll pack my shit. Go get the others and come back for me,” I yell loud enough for him to hear me.
“Fair enough,” he says as he raps the door in acknowledgment.
My gaze shifts to Piper, and she puts her purse down as she props her head up on her hand, smiling over at me.
“You were going to skip an annual hunting trip to watch movies with me? That doesn’t sound too wild,” she informs me.
“Girls don’t like it when I’m wild. Someone always ends up hurt. Look at your sister—Hale broke her arm on the second date. Your eyes almost bulged out of your skull when you saw us playing darts with knives. I’d have to ease you in. You chicks are fragile,” I explain.
Her grin only grows.
“I’m not that fragile,” she argues, though it’s a weak attempt.
She’s wearing my sweats. Half of these movies are chick flicks. I’ve got champagne chilling in the sink. Tonight was the night. Damn it.
I hate George fucking Malone right now.
“I didn’t even know they still made VCRs,” she states idly. “In fact, I forgot they ever made them at all.”
“Livestreaming is a bitch with all the buffering that goes on out here,” I point out, eyeing her lips.
Three days, and this is all the progress I’ve made.
