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Fuck.
How stupid am I?
She wasn’t even here for five damn minutes, and I couldn’t hold it together without screwing her.
Here’s an even better question—how the hell am I going to face her father after what just happened?
The anguish that escapes from my lips is cut off by a deep voice.
“That pissed off, huh?”
I swing around, only to find Hunter. My first impulse is to launch myself at his tall form and wrap my arms around him in a giant bearhug before squeezing the life out of him.
Instead, I stay rooted in place. It’s tempting to rub my eyes and make sure this isn’t some sort of strange hallucination. I haven’t seen my brother since he left town with Skye after college graduation.
There’ve been a few stilted texts back and forth but nothing of consequence. Nothing to say that he’s forgiven me and is ready to let me back into his life again. The closest I’m able to get is watching his games on TV and interviews on ESPN.
When I remain silent, he asks, “Does your mood have anything to do with the pretty blonde who just lit out of here like her ass was on fire?”
Yeah…that’s not a question I’m going to touch with a ten-foot pole. Even if my brother and I were on the best of terms, I wouldn’t want to discuss the messed-up situation with Poppy.
Refusing to tackle that issue, I turn the conversation back on him. “What are you doing here?”
With a shrug, he breaks eye contact before looking around the barn. “I heard Coach hired you as an assistant and that you’re now taking a few classes at the university.” He glances at me for confirmation.
“You heard right.”
He nods and shifts his stance. “Not going to ask how I found out?”
My tongue slides across the front of my teeth. “I assume you talked to Coach.”
“Yup. He seemed happy that you’re working with his QB.”
I rein in the snort before it can escape. I have the sneaking suspicion that damn kid is going to get his neck wrung before the end of this season. And it’ll have absolutely nothing to do with football.
As I stare at my brother, I’m struck with the bizarreness of this conversation.
For so long, it was just the two of us pitted against the world. Plenty of friends and acquaintances offered a helping hand, but in the end, I refused to accept the assistance. We were able to get by on our own because we were together.
A team.
A unit.
And now look at us…engaging in a surface-level conversation like we’re nothing more than strangers.
It sucks.
Instead of taking the bull by the horns and talking about what’s really going on, I bury those thoughts and the pain they cause deep down inside where they can’t see the light of day.
“I’m enjoying it.”
“You still working on cars?” He moves farther inside the barn.
There used to be a time when Hunter would hoist himself onto the counter, and we’d shoot the shit for hours. After a long day spent in the garage, we’d crack open a couple of cold ones.
Back then, I didn’t think anything could rip us apart. I thought our bond was tight. Solid. But it wasn’t enough to withstand Skye. Ever since they got together freshman year of high school, she was all he could see.
All he could think about.
