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Ryan scoffs beside me. “I am not. I’m a genius.”
I ignore him and step a little closer to Braxton. He glances up at me and then purses his lips.
“I had nothing better to do. So here I am,” he says.
Ryan takes that opportunity to launch himself onto my back. I stumble forward slightly before righting myself. I feel Ryan press his cheek against mine.
“Well, hello there. What’s your name?”
Braxton shuffles on his feet. “Braxton.”
Ryan holds out a hand toward him as I try to get him off of me, but he just clings, like a bad rash.
“Get off me, Ryan.”
He bites down on my ear again, and I see Braxton turn his gaze away from us.
“Ryan, I’m going to smash you into the side of the truck if you don’t let go of me.”
He isn’t deterred, just bites down harder, making me yelp.
Then suddenly, he’s gone. I turn and see Beck pulling Ryan off me. Ryan is kicking out, laughing like a maniac, and Beck is struggling to keep him at bay. But Ryan doesn’t stand a chance. Beck is bigger than him. Much bigger. Probably rivals me, to be honest.
I rub at my pulsing ear and glance at Braxton who is now staring at me.
“Does he do that often?” he asks, and I nod.
“He’s a nuisance. Always biting me.”
He scoffs and seems angry, but that’s nothing new. “That’s fucking weird.”
“Yeah, I know. But I’m stuck with him. Our parents are in love.”
Braxton fiddles with the piercing in his nose and then straightens his shoulders. “So, what do you do out here?”
“Drink, watch the meteor showers. Chat.”
“Eat Beck’s cheese!” Ryan shouts, and I smile at how ridiculous he is. I swear.
“Ryan farts a lot,” I say loudly, and Ryan rolls his eyes.
“It’s the beans! I had a bad reaction.”
“Honestly, ignore him. Come on. Want a beer?” I know he’s underage, but I don’t think anyone cares about that. Hayes especially. We were sneaking alcohol out in the fields when we were fifteen. Not much else to do around here.
“Sure.”
I find Ryan and Beck in the bed of my truck, Ryan between Beck’s legs. Beck is feeding him grapes, probably to keep him in one place. And it’s working. Ryan looks blissed out. His relationship with food is funny. He’s kind of like Abra-ham when it comes to treats. He’ll drop everything if it’s something he wants.
I grab a beer and send Beck a smile of thanks. He returns it and then stuffs another grape into Ryan’s mouth before my stepbrother can utter something annoying.
I turn back to Braxton, twisting the cap off the beer and handing it to him.
He takes it, our fingers sliding against each other, and a shock of something undefinable shoots through me. I shake it off and then gesture toward the one empty chair that we have.
“Go ahead and sit there,” I say, and Braxton shakes his head.
“No. That’s yours. You don’t need to be nice to me.”
