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Yeah, Len. Me too ...
“Jesus, how big was his dick?” Juliette mumbles, and Lenny and I both pound our drinks before we’re interrupted quickly by a little voice.
“Did you forget about my Band-Aid, Uncle Brandon? I got blood on your shirt.”
Kill me now.
BRANDON
“Sorry, baby girl,” I kiss Aurora’s finger, then walk quickly through the kitchen, not making eye contact with any of the ladies.
It shouldn’t matter to me that the woman I’ve lusted after for years just admitted she hasn’t had sex in fifteen years.FIFTEEN YEARS. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to go back into that kitchen, but I don’t know why.
I don’t do relationships.
I don’t want strings.
I don’t do attachments.
It’s easier this way.
I may have thought about it once, but that was a long fucking time ago.
Fuck that. It’s not just easier. It’s how I’ve gotten through life. I don’t know any other way. And Ashlyn Kingston isn’t a woman I can take to bed and walk away from the next day. She’s...Fuck. I don’t even know what the hell she is.
But she’s not mine.
At one point, I might have thought she was. But I was wrong.
By the time I’ve cleaned and bandaged the tiny scrape Aurora got when she fell trying to keep up with her cousins, Ashlyn and Lenny are gone from the kitchen, but Jules is still there. She’s now sitting on a stool instead of the counter with a full margarita glass in front of her, and I’m pretty sure she’s waiting for me.
I set Aurora down on her feet and squat down next to her. “Listen, baby girl. Your legs aren’t as long as the boys’ yet. You’ve got to be careful. Okay?”
She nods her little head, her space-buns bouncing with the movement. “Okay.”
I hold my hand up, and she high-fives me.
“Love you, Uncle Brandy.”
I groan at the horrible fucking nickname. “Love you too, Aurora.”
And then she takes off on her chubby little legs, and I debate whether to bother turning around or just follow my niece out of the kitchen. My gut is telling me to get the hell out of here while I still can. But I should have known Juliette Kingston is not a woman to be ignored.
“Dixon,” she calls out, forcing my hand.
When I turn, she eyes me carefully. “What are your intentions toward my friend?”
“Intentions?” I sigh. What the fuck? “Listen, Jules—”
“Nope,” she cuts me off. “Youlisten. I’ve watched you silently pine for years. You’re interested. What I can’t figure out is why you haven’t made a move yet, unless there’s something I don’t know.”
She runs a lime wedge around the rim of her glass, waiting. “Got an answer for me?”
“No.” Something pulls low in my gut. This isn’t a conversation I’m gonna have with her.
“Wrong answer.” She stands from the stool and takes a few steps toward me. “Ashlyn is something special. She deserves to be treated like a queen.” Her eyes tighten as she stares at me. “I’m pretty sure you could be that person if you stopped being a pussy and made a goddamn move.”
Pussy?
