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“Gotchu.”
I sigh and rub at my throbbing ear. He really bit down on it. I swear, sometimes I wonder if he’s trying to eat me. Like a cannibal. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was.
“You need to stop biting me.”
He grins wider. “I’ll never stop. You’re so tasty.”
I sigh and then scrunch my nose when he burps loudly.
“Sorry, took in too much air.”
He huffs and then glances over my shoulder, waggling one eyebrow at me—yes, one eyebrow. It’s a talent of his. He brags about it whenever he can.
“What? What’s wrong?” I ask, turning to see what he’s looking at.
Oh, it’s nothing wrong. It’s just Braxton across the street, standing under a tree and frowning at us.
Ryan sends up a dramatic wave and then blows him a kiss, making Braxton drop his gaze to his phone hurriedly.
“Why do you have to do that?” I ask, slightly annoyed. I swear, this guy needs a good spanking, a good time-out in a corner.
“Because he’s obviously jealous. He saw me nibbling on your ear and wants a turn.”
I snort at that, sounding a little too much like Abra-ham for my liking. Perhaps I should spend less time with the pigs.
“What are you talking about? You been smoking again?”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “No. I mean, only a little with your grandpa earlier this morning, but it’s worn off by now.”
I sigh, knowing what my grandpa is like when he’s high. A fucking nuisance is what he is. Last time he got high, he let the chickens loose and put an egg down the front of his pants.
“Geez,” I murmur and then turn my gaze back to Braxton, who is staring at us once more.
“Big bro, I think he’s got it bad for you,” Ryan says, and I slap at his back, trying to get him to shut up. There is no way that Braxton likes me or is jealous, or whatever else Ryan is conjuring up in his muddled head.
There is no damn way.
My stepbrother has lost his mind.
two
. . .
jimbob
I seeBraxton again at the feed store two days later. I drove my tractor here. Wanted to feel the fresh air blow through my hair. I plan on saying hello to my mom, who works at the coffee shop in the back of the store. Plan on getting a real big sugary drink and savoring it for as long as I can.
My tractor even has a cup holder. I’m fancy like that.
“Hey, baby,” my mom says when she sees me. She looks a lot like me, with her blonde hair and her blue eyes. She’s taller than most women too, but I get my height and bulk from my dad.
I wave at her and she beams, handing the customer in front of me his drink. He’s an older guy with a full head of graying hair. He’s someone I’ve seen around town, but I don’t know him. He lingers a little too long, if you ask me, but I don’t say anything as he moves away, a small wave directed at my mom and then a small smile for me before he disappears around the corner.
My mom is blushing suddenly, and I cock my head at her.
“Ma, who was that?”
She straightens her hair and shrugs. “No one.”
