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Things were never the same after my mom died.
My dad was devastated. Hell, we all were, but he took it the hardest. It was like his whole world burned to the ground and he became a shell of his former self. He walked around like a ghost for months, and then he practically vanished.
He didn’t want to be at home because it reminded him too much of her. He never said those words, but as an adult I see it for what it was. He worked two jobs, told himself and us—my two younger brothers and I—that he was doing it so we could have a better life.
At the time, I didn’t understand. I was an eleven-year-old boy who had just lost his mom, and with an absent father, I was forced to step up and take care of my youngest brother, who was two.
Love demolished my dad—our whole family—and as I got older, I vowed that I’d never let someone have that kind of power over me. I refuse to be destroyed by such a simple emotion.
That’s why I’ll never get into a relationship.
That’s why one-night stands will always be good enough—because they have to be.
“It’s not up to me. As Avery keeps reminding me, she’s her own person and can make her own decisions. I’m not going to tell either of you what to do, but know that if she goes along with this, I won’t like it.” Rhett slaps me across the back, gets up, and leaves before I can process what the hell he just said.
He gets about two feet away before he stops and turns back around. “But just so you know, if you hurt my sister in any way, I will kill you and make it look like an accident.”
I continue to stare at him, eyes wide, like he’s sprouting a second head.
What the hell happened to the Rhett we all know and love? You know—rude, snarky, unhelpful.
Did he…?
Am I crazy?
Did he just tell me that Ishouldfake date his sister?
CHAPTER EIGHT
Cramington?
What kind of stupid ass couple name is that? It sounds more like a threat than a cute couple name.
I’m going to cramington my foot up your ass.
What if they think he’s cramming his tongue in my mouth? Or a different appendage in my…gasp.
Not that I want to have a couple’s name with Foster, but they could have at least picked something cute. Not a name that sounds like I’m choking in the middle of it.
At least they got a good angle on the kiss.
I bring my phone closer to my face, tilting it slightly. He even looks like he’s really into it.
Looks, notis.
And even thoughThe Crushis boxed away, it wouldn’t hurt to save a copy, you know, for research, so I can study it later… and most definitely not remember how soft his lips were, or how nice it felt to have his arms around me, holding me close.
I won’t do any of that because he’s a hockey player and a ladies’ man, and those are two things that are a big fatno.
Shouldn’t be a problem—if he keeps his lips to himself.
Just as I’m about to go scrolling through the comments, which I know won’t be helpful, I’m interrupted by a light knocking that sounds like it’s coming from my front door.
I toss my phone on the cushion next to me and glance in the portable crib. Mason is still going strong on his nap, so I head over to answer the door.
At least whoever it is has the sense to be quiet. I know it’s not Rhett. Not because he’s loud—even though he is—but because he’s not supposed to be here for at least another hour or two. He and Lucy had a baby appointment after practice, and then they were planning on stopping to pick up dinner for us at my favorite Mexican restaurant in town.
It seems unlikely that it’s Gloria. She was shopping with her sister today, but I guess they could be back. Maybe they ordered a pizza and the delivery guy is afraid to knock on her door alone. Not that I could blame him after all the descriptive things Gloria said about his penis.
