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“Want me to call her in here?” Beck asked, flicking his hazel eyes from her to his older brother. She chewed on her lip again. Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to this. It was a stupid mistake.
Jett reached down and pulled her lip free, running his thumb along the abused flesh. “You ready, pretty girl?” he murmured.
Was she ready?
No.
She’d never be ready.
Maybe she could run and hide before Roxy saw it. That way she wouldn’t have to see the utter disappointment in her face. Yeah, that was a good idea.
But before she could make a run for it, Beck shouted over his shoulder, “Roxy!”
Her face burned, and her chest tightened with more anxiety, as if that was even possible. But it did. So much she thought she was having a heart attack instead of a panic attack. Could a panic attack lead to a heart attack? She didn’t know. Didn’t really want to find out.
She wouldn't have to find out if she hid really fast. “If you’ll excuse me—” She turned to sprint away, and slammed straight into Jett’s solid chest. “Let me go past you.”
“No.”
“But I have to potty,” she lied, dancing around. He just stared at her. “Okay, not that. I need Ottie. It’s his snack time.”
“He can have a snack later.”
“But if he waits, he gets low blood sugar. And you know how he gets when that happens.” She twirled her finger in a circle by her temple, widening her eyes. His lips twitched, but otherwise, his face stayed blank. How did he do that? She’d have to ask him for lessons.
“Later.”
“But Sealy?—”
“Is fine,” Jett said, his voice calm. How was he so calm? She was freaking out!
“Do you hear that?” She cupped her hand around her ear. “I think that’s Ottie calling for me.”
“I don’t hear anything.”
“Hm. That’s weird. I definitely hear him?—”
“I do too,” a cool voice said from behind her.
Roxy.
She dramatically gulped, and Jett grinned as he put his hands on her shoulders and spun her around to face the famous rockstar. Her hair, not blue anymore, but pink, was twisted in two buns on top of her head. They’d been at Roxy’s estate for two days, and being around her still hadn’t gotten easier. Being around any of the guys hadn’t gotten easier.
“Ottie can hang out with Sir Hugglesworth later,” she said. Abbie still couldn’t believe that Roxy—the Roxy Bandera—had a stuffie, too. But she did, and he was the cutest little guy ever.
“He’d like that,” Abbie said shyly, digging the toe of her sneaker into the hardwood floor. Roxy grinned before turning toward the tarp-covered canvas.
“Now, what’s this?” She looked toward Beck, who smiled indulgently at her, then at Abbie.
“It’s, um…it’s…”
“It’s my birthday gift to you,” Beck said casually.
“Is it?” She stayed staring at Abbie. She didn’t know what to say, or what to do with her hands. Why were hands so freaking awkward? They just hung there, doing nothing. “You okay?” Roxy grabbed her arm, and Abbie jolted.
Stop being such a weirdo.
“I, well—Beck—he?—”
