Page 9 of It Should Have Been You

Okay legs, please work. Do your job.

Pressing my hand on my thigh, I finally lift myself from the couch, grateful when my limbs seem stronger. My gaze sweeps around the room. Anywhere but what Logan is doing to his brother’s back.

The worst part? Logan’s work looks amazing. It’s art. An art form I would love to partake in if it didn’t mean passing out.

All eyes fall on me.

Not Logan, though.

Nope. He’s concentrating on his work, and yet, I can’t help wanting a final look at those eyes.

Setting my glass down, I hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m going to go. Nice meeting you all.”

Logan’s voice pipes up from where he sits. “You okay getting home?”

“I live close by,” I explain, my embarrassment surfacing again to eat me alive.

“Need someone to get you home safe?” Jaxson’s lips lift into a panty-melting grin as a collective “For fuck’s sake,” rings out from everyone. But I don’t think he’s asking for my benefit. His eyes keep darting toward Eden, who’s sipping a beer on the other side while playing DJ from a laptop.

“You’re a pig, Jaxson,” she says, her attention still on the screen.

Logan finally stops what he’s doing to spin around in his chair. The glare in his eyes resembles that of a disapproving father. “Okay, what the fuck is going on with you two?”

“Ask your brother,” Eden says with so much bite, I feel the sting.

This is awkward.

“You two are best friends, and Jaxson, you go on tour next week. Do us all a favor and get your shit together before then.”

“Hear, hear,” Molly agrees.

Then all hell breaks loose, a choir of voices arguing back and forth.

Okay, I’m out.

Not my circus and all that.

I mutter another goodbye, but they don’t hear me.

Two

The smell of baking coming from the kitchen is heavenly to my slightly hungover senses as I make my way down the hallway of our two-bedroom apartment.

I may or may not have drowned away the embarrassment of passing out during Kim’s tattoo last night. After rushing out of there as if my ass was on fire, I got home, popped open a bottle of wine, and drank the first half straight from the bottle. It was that kind of night.

Kim is wiggling her ass when I enter the kitchen, dancing to her eighties playlist blasting from the speakers. She takes a tray of brownies from the oven and replaces it with another.

Oblivious to being watched, she talks to the cakes like she’s given birth to them herself. “You are going to be delicious.”

My sister is weird.

“You really need more sleep.”

Startled, she jerks back, managing to balance the brownies on the tray before placing them on the counter.

“What the hell, Beth? You scared the shit out of me.”

I stifle my laugh, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge, and pouring a glass. “Why are you baking? It’s nine in the morning.”

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