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I rolled my eyes. “I’m not talking to you about my sex life. You’re my brother!”
“And Drake is my best friend. He’s fifteen years older than you, Amanda! You just let him take advantage of you!” he yelled, and next to me, Mackenzie stiffened.
“He never once took advantage of me.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes until little white stars danced behind my eyelids. “You’re so worried about the fact I fucked him that you don’t even care that he helped me pass my license exam and then insisted I celebrate when nobody else was around to do so. Or when he stayed with me when the power went out because I was scared of the storm? How about the way he’s gotten me banned from the jail because he doesn’t think it’s safe for me to be there so now I can’t even see him?”
Mackenzie handed me a tissue, and I gripped it in my hand but let the tears run down my cheeks anyway. She rubbed soft circles on my back while she silently pleaded with Bryson. He continued to huff anyway.
“I don’t like it,” Bryson grumbled.
“You don’t have to like it, but it’s not up to you. I love him, Brys, and if anyone should get what it’s like to love someone you weren’t supposed to fall for, it should be you,” I said, reminding him he fell in love with my best friend.
Mackenzie giggled, crossing the kitchen to stand behind him and putting her arms around his shoulders. “She’s right. You weren’t supposed to fuck me either.”
Bryson groaned. “It’s different.”
“No, it’s not,” Mackenzie and I said at the same time.
“He’s good for her,” she told him softly. He relaxed when she said it, and he sighed. “Maybe you need to talk to him.”
Bryson grumbled. “Maybe.”
Chapter forty-three
Drake
“Are we just going to sit here in silence? Or did you come see me for a reason?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning back in the uncomfortable chair.
Across the table, Bryson glared at me. He was the last person I was expecting when they had told me I had a visitor. Amanda had told me he was mad, and I couldn’t blame him. Bryson huffed, but the rest of the silence was deafening.
“Look, I was going to tell you when you got back from your honeymoon,” I admitted, breaking the uncomfortable silence.
Bryson turned to me, glaring. “So why didn’t you?”
“Didn’t get a chance.” I shrugged, and Bryson’s face turned a dark red.
He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before he spoke. “I asked you not to fuck my sister.”
“I know.” I wasn’t going to deny that he had asked, or that I had fucked her that night even after telling him I wouldn’t. “It’s not like that, though.”
Bryson rolled his eyes, and his whole head followed. “She told me the whole story. She also told me she’s in love with you and will do anything to get you out of here.” He gestured around the room vaguely.
I nodded. “I know.”
“I don’t like it,” he grumbled.
Shrugging, I leaned forward. “I don’t care if you don’t like it.”
Bryson’s nostrils flared, and he closed his hands into fists on the table. “She’s my sister!”
“Aren’t you being a bit hypocritical right now?” I pointed out, and when he sucked his teeth, I knew he was already aware of the reverse. “Why do you think it’d be so bad for me to be with your sister?”
“Besides the fact you could almost be old enough to be her father?” He ran his hands through his hair, pausing to tug at the root. “You get her into shit like this.”
“Technically she got me into it.” I chuckled, earning a snarl from Bryson. “I would never do anything to put Amanda in danger. The fact you think I’d let her get hurt without doing absolutely everything in my power to stop it is ridiculous!”
He turned to me and scoffed. “I need to know the truth.” Bryson glared, tapping his fingers against the metal table in front of him and taking another scan of the room. The bare walls didn’t hold much for him to look at, but he refused to hold eye contact with me. “Do you love my sister?”
I didn’t hesitate. “More than anything.”
