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What has gotten into me? Nobody likes platitudes.
But graciously, he smiles at me. “You’re sweet.”
“Pfft. I’m a selfish, stupid mess.”
His dimple comes out. “Okay, but you’re asweet, selfish, stupid mess.”
His knuckles skim my cheek. I turn my face into his touch, brushing his fingers with my lips. What has come over me? Something has shifted. The rhythm of our relationship is different suddenly, and although I am the instigator, I’m as blindsided by it as he is, judging by the widening, then darkening of his eyes. I rise onto the balls of my feet and touch my lips to his. I taste hesitation; then, concession. His fingers creep into my hair, pulling me in. The kiss is magical, and I lose myself in the fairy dust sprinkling the moment. I don’t know who I am anymore, and while Marco is a factor in the confusion, he is also a rock, a touchstone amidst the crazy.
Our lips move against each other, yet still I sense reserve, nothing like at the IHOP. I lay my palms against the stubble on his cheek. I don’t want reserve. I want mind-numbing, heart-stopping, lose-yourself abandon.
But, reality, the cruel master, is tugging me back—to real life, real time. What am I doing? Is this not the very sort of decision that’s been ground zero for all my woes?
I’m a stranger to myself. A danger, too. There must be a dozen reasons why anything between Marco and me is a bad idea. One, there’s Tripp. Two, there’s me—I’m a headcase. Three, Marco’s troubles stack up as high as these West Texas windmills, so I can be all pie in the sky as much as I want, but every hour brings him closer to lengthy prison time. And last—though it should clearly be first, is—
“…sister doesn’t need this right now!”
I hear the footfalls, the voices, but they don’t register for a beat, and then it’s too late, too late to separate in order not to not give my relentless keeper more fuel for his fire. The only shocker is that Avery was able to hold him back this long.
Finding us in a lip-lock, Marco’s hand braced on the wall beside my head, must paint a picture that is going to stir up all kinds of fun.
“Alright, I’ve had about enough.”
We separate, but I’m not going to cower in shame. After all, it was only a kiss. Besides, we’re two adults and my brother needs to get his own life. “No,I’vehad enough. Leave me alone, Tripp Walker.”
He plants his hands at his hips, but it’s his towering height that is intimidating, even for me. “Not gonna happen.” He glares at me and Marco with equal intensity but addresses me. “Seriously? You’re getting it on withhim?”
“Tripp, this isn’t the way.” Poor, pleading Avery. I don’t know how she does it.
I put a hand on Marco’s arm when I feel him stir beside me. This is my fight. I step toe to toe with my brother, not caring that I have to awkwardly crane my neck at this angle. I’ve so much heat propelling me, I don’t feel the discomfort.
“We’re notgetting it on,and I could slap your face for a nickel, so don’t push me.”
“Oh, I’m shaking, little sis. You know I’m not blind, right? First you’re off galivanting around the state with this guy, but I tell myself there’s a logical explanation. Now, I find you two mugging down in broad daylight, and I’d tell you to get a room, but I’m afraid you just might. Maybe already have.” His black eyebrows lift.
My chin quivers. I’ve lost the right to argue that he knows better.
Turning aside, he expels a word he’s certainly never used in my company before. It wasn’t directed at me per se; he loves me too much to ever treat me that way, but I want to die on the spot. I’ve let my big brother down.
If he only knew.
Fixating on the concrete, tears gathering, I curl myself in my arms.
“Howdareyou talk to your sister that way.”
Marco wedges himself between Tripp and me. His chin is up, jaw set and granite hard. His arms are splayed and if we all survive this without fists flying, it will be a miracle.
“I wouldn’t be worrying so much about how I talk to my sister, if I were you, Gonzalez.” The two are so close they’re sucking the same air supply. “You and I got our own issues.”
“Well I am worrying about it.” He jerks his chin. “Your sister and I have not beengetting it on—and you should know that about her without me having to tell you.”
Quiet, still fury hardens Tripp’s features. “Not for want of trying on your part. Am I right?”
Marco blanches. Oh, dear.
With a smug snort, dismissing Marco altogether, Tripp pivots to me. “You’re playing with fire here, Lise. Have been for a while according to Mom and Dad.”
My jaw descends. Mom and Dad have been talking about me? What do they know? I live two hundred miles away from them most of the time.
