When I wake up in the morning, the bed is cold where she passed out last night and I know she’s long gone. Fuck, that was a hot night. My sheets still smell like her and my fucking dick is tired for the first time in its life. We fucked like goddamned sex starved teenagers last night. Each time I thought she was done, she’d flip a switch and we’d go right back at it.
After taking a piss and smirking at my clean bathroom, I make a mental note to thank my sister for cleaning it yesterday. Don’t ask me why she did it; I sure didn’t. It’s not like to me to have a clean house, and typically I can’t find it in me to care. I actually find it trivial, cleaning house to a spotless shine. What’s the point in wasting all that time? Straightening up, sure, but when Reagan came in and cleaned I swear my bathroom was a different color when she finished.
My coffee pot gurgles as I stare at Facebook on my phone, wishing I had the balls to hit that friend request button on Mackenzie’s profile. If I could just see her again and get her phone number, I wouldn’t have to worry that I’ll never see her again. I hate relying on Facebook to get a hold of a girl. I hate that I have to ask to be her friend when we’ve already fucked. Doesn’t that make me look like some guy who’s chasin’ a girl who doesn’t want him? Why hasn’t she friend requested me yet?
Holy fuck listen to me!
I toss my phone onto the counter and hook Yellow’s leash to him, throwing on a shirt as I head outside for a walk before heading to my parents’ house. This dog’s old, but he’s always loved walks. I fear the minute I stop paying him so much attention is the time he stops being as youthful as he is. I’ve had him through everything, I can’t imagine losing him.
The weather’s changing and usually this is one of my worst times of year, followed only by the entire month of December. Fucking December. Let’s be honest, the rest of the year isn’t sunshine and rainbows anymore either. Ever since I buried Caroline in the frozen earth, my heart stopped caring. They buried a part of me with her that day, and after months of not wanting to go on, I’ve spent the last few years living every day like it’s my last. Not much matters to me anymore. I don’t have that ‘care’ button inside me that makes me want to be a better person. Hell, there are few things in life I really do care about. Family, Yellow, and Alcohol.
And lately, a dark haired vixen with brilliant blue eyes and lips to die for.
I finish the walk and hop into the shower before relaxing on the couch and grabbing a beer. I’ll need the aid to get through tonight. We’re having an early dinner at my parents’ house, the entire fucking family, and as much as I love my family, sometimes I wish I could take a break from their world. Call it jealousy if you want, but seeing everyone so happy while I’m just floating through life isn’t something I want to repeatedly do.
“You’re cranky today.” My sister nudges me.
“You’re cranky today,” I mock her in a high-pitched voice. My mother’s eyebrows rise and my father chuckles. I grunt, sliding the gravy across the table to Lincoln.
“Didn’t get enough sleep last night, Ford?” Wren, my brother’s wife asks as she walks with Carter to the table.
“I slept just fine, thank you very much.” I take a swig of beer and start eating, ignoring their commentary about my life. Sometimes family can be real awesome, and sometimes I wish I was a loner. Tonight being the latter.
I woke up this morning after a night of hot sex with Mackenzie, just to find her long gone and no way to get a hold of her. Then I spent the morning stalking her Facebook page and Instagram to find absolutely no way to get a hold of her. I swear I sat in my living room with Yellow barking at me to play with him after our walk, just staring at that damn screen with my finger hovering over that ‘friend request’ button.
I never hit it. I fucking pussied out and couldn’t do it.
“You leave the boy alone.” My grandma points her fork at me. “You’re doing just fine, Ford.”
I smile at her, because my gram is the most badass old person ever. If there’s one person who understands how I’m feeling lately, it’s her. She lost her first born child a month after she was born. I’m not sure if my siblings know as much as I do, but I find myself spending a lot of time over at the old lady’s house. She’s good company when I don’t want to be alone and she doesn’t judge when I down too many drinks.
“Thank you, Nan.” I smile and shove a bite of pork steak in my mouth.
“Well, while we have you all here,” Mom says. “Your father and I want to tell you something.” She clears her throat and smiles at my dad.
The four of us- Reagan, Lincoln, Wren, and I- all stop what we’re doing and stare at them. My dad chuckles and I narrow my eyes.
“Is one of you dying?” I blurt.
“Dude!” Lincoln blurts even louder, throwing a piece of bread at me.
“Oh, stop. God, you two.” My mother chastises us like we’re four years old again. “No. No one’s dying. But now that your father’s officially retired and Carter’s starting preschool soon…well…we’re free every day.”
“And that gets boring. Really fast,” my dad chimes in and my mother rolls her eyes.
“Try living alone with a son who doesn’t ever visit you,” Nan mutters, eyeballing my dad and I laugh. She’s a little bitter he doesn’t spend every waking minute there.
“Come on now, woman, I’m there for you!” I boast and she smiles, lifting her water glass to me.
“Thank Christ for that.”
“We’re taking a vacation!” Mom yells, clasping her hands together and I spin my gaze back to them.
“What?” Lincoln and I blurt at the same time.
“Where?” Reagan says louder, her eyes wide and a smile on her face. God she’s a dork. “When do we leave? How long are we gone for?”
I laugh and pat her shoulder. “Sweet, young, naïve Reagan.” I chuckle at the look on my parents’ faces. “They’re not bringing us along. We’re adults, remember? Our parents are finally allowed to have a life without us because we’re supposed to be supporting ourselves.” She narrows her eyes at me, waiting for the dig. “Most of us can do that just fine.” I grin and she slugs me so hard it actually hurts.
“Mom!” she whines and my father curses under his breath.
“God, knock it off you two,” my mother says, slapping me on the shoulder. “Ford, be nice to your sister!”
“She started it!”
“I did not!” she yells.
“So, where are you two going?” My older brother Lincoln’s always the most level headed between the three of us. I guess he has to be…he’s got a family and everything and here are Reagan and I, having a punching fest at the dinner table like children.
“A cruise. We leave from New Orleans in three weeks.” The smile my mother’s wearing warms my heart.
“You guys deserve it. And don’t worry, we’ll take care of everything here. I can come over, get the mail, make sure shit’s safe and whatnot.” I shove a bite of mashed potatoes into my mouth and my sister chimes in.
“I live here. So I mean…I can take care of it. Ford.”
I grin at her, mouth wide open with mashed potatoes mashing out of my lips.
“You live here? I thought you lived with that friend of yours?” I play stupid, knowing full and well that she had to move home after a two-month stint of trying to get her life in order.
“Ford, come on. Can’t we make it through one family dinner without you two bickering?” My father finally speaks up and I know I’ve pushed it a bit too far. Gram snickers from her end of the table and I wink at her.
“You’re right. I’m sorry Reagan. You’re young. You have your whole life to get your shit in order.”
“Shiiiiit!” Carter wails and laughs then throws a spoonful of potatoes at me. I can’t help but laugh but the look on Wren and Lincoln’s faces are scary enough to stop me in my tracks. This kid’s getting old enough that he probably shouldn’t be throwing food like that, but as an uncle I think it’s fucking hilarious.
Dinner’s finished up relatively quickly and while Lincoln and I take Carter out back to play, the girls stay inside to clean up.
“You sure you’re ok tonight?” he asks, shoving his hands into his pocket and watching Carter play on the small play set my parents have back here.
“I’m good. All good.” I nod, taking a swig of my second…or third…beer tonight.
“Wren told me about Mackenzie last night.” He won’t even look at me because he knows what happened last year when I met this girl. I came straight home and professed my love for a girl. A girl I knew was taken, and a girl that never even gave me the time of day. I was way too drunk and when I woke the next morning I knew it wasn’t love. I also knew I needed to find out what it was.
“How the hell did she know about it?” I blurt.
“Her and Reagan talk, Ford. You didn’t think we’d find out? You slept with a chick who’s taken?” He finally glances over at me. My brother’s a pretty open-minded guy, but tonight, if looks could kill, I’d be a dead man.
“I did no such thing.” I grin, taking another pull of beer and finishing the bottle. “Neither of us slept a wink.” I wink at him then walk inside to grab another beer. When I return, he hasn’t budged from his spot and he still won’t really look at me.
“You had sex with a girl who’s got a fiancé apparently. Remember what you told me last year about her? She’s engaged. The ring? Did you just happen to forget all of that last night?”
“Yep.” I nod, pressing the bottle top to my lips and letting the cool liquid sooth my soul. “With a rack like hers it’s pretty easy to forget a lot of things.”
He snatches the beer from my hand and pours it out into the grass.
“What the hell, man?” I whine, watching my liquid gold flow into the earth.
“You want Mom and Dad seeing you stumbling drunk? Cuz you’re on your way there.” He sets the bottle on a small table and sighs. “Look. I know this time of year’s rough—”
“Fuck you,” I blurt, not wanting to go there. “That has nothing to do with anything.”
“It’ll be six years this winter, Ford.” His words make my stomach lurch and I squeeze my eyes closed, just to force them back open when the vision of her lifeless body in that bed flashes before my eyes.
“You don’t think I realize that?” I growl.
“I think you’re still not ok.” Lincoln turns and shakes his head, the pity in his eyes evident.
“I think you need to mind your own goddamned business.” After a glance over my shoulder, noticing Wren standing in the doorway, I storm past them. “Mom,” I blurt, walking into the kitchen. She spins with a smile on her face, but I must be wearing a scowl because it falls immediately.
“What’s wrong now?” She asks, those same worry creases Lincoln has between his eyebrows when talking to me lately, my mother wears perfectly.
I came in to talk to her…but I can’t even do that right now.
“I’m heading home. Thanks for dinner.”
“You’re not staying for dessert?” She crosses her arms and cocks her head, the typical mom way of trying to make us feel guilty and I chuckle.
“Nah. Not tonight. Thanks for dinner.” I give her a quick hug then I’m out the door before anyone else in that house can make me feel like shit tonight. I can do that all by myself, thank you very much.
When I make it to my bike and strap my helmet on I pause, glancing back at the house I grew up in. The house I learned so much from.
“You think they’ll leave us the house?” Caroline asks, grinning stupidly.
“You planning on my parents dying soon?” I ask, laughter lacing my tone because she’s too damn cute.
“No!” She shrieks, probably not even realizing what she just insisted. “I mean like, fifty years from now.” She lets out a frustrated, embarrassed growl when I quirk an eyebrow at her, grinning and waiting for her to ramble on. “I just mean I really love this house. And you are the middle child…the one who’s bound to screw up. You’ll need something of your own,” she says, then busts out laughing.
“Hey, I think I’m doing pretty well for myself.” I bring her fingers to my lips and kiss my class ring. A promise.
“I think you are, too.” She smiles and leans in, pressing her lips to mine. “I love you, Ford West.”
“I’m going to make you so happy, Caroline,” I whisper. “You ready to head to dinner?”
“Please. I’m starving.”
Now all this house reminds me of is that life isn’t fucking fair. My parents and brother have all found their love and reason for life. My sister’s too young to care. And here I am. Sitting on my bike, flashing back to a fucking time in my life that I can’t change. As much as I’ve tried to forget, I never will.
I rev the engine and pull away from the brick house that used to hold so much potential for my life.
By the time I hit the interstate, I’m not sure where I’m headed but I can’t go home alone right now. I know I’ve had probably a little too many beers to be going this fast, especially when I barely miss clipping the back of a tractor that’s taking up two lanes of this fucking road.
After about an hour of driving I pull off the road and stop my bike at a bar that looks like it’s closed, save for the flashing neon light in the window. The entire drive I couldn’t take my mind off Caroline and I hate my brother for bringing it up. It’s been five years, almost six, and I love her as much today as I did that day in front of my parents’ house but that changes nothing of this situation. I need to move on and I’m trying. If I’m not worrying about the past, I’m obsessing over Mackenzie, which is stupid as fuck. It was a one-night stand that she obviously regretted when she woke up in the middle of the night and snuck out.
I hang my bike helmet from the handlebars and head into the bar just as another bike is pulling into the parking lot. The bar is dimly lit, but I wouldn’t expect much different from a small town rundown bar in the middle of southern Illinois. The stench of smoke lingers in the air and I take a deep breath, enjoying the way it soothes me.
I motion for the bartender and she saunters over with a smirk on her face. If she weren’t missing one of her front teeth I’d maybe think about it…but meth head isn’t really my type.
“Old Fashioned.” I move my gaze across the room and only see one other soul in sight, and from the looks of it he’s been sitting here for about forty years too long. A sad thought crosses my mind that that’s going to be me one day, but I push it aside. The door opens just as the bartender is sliding me my drink and I spin in my stool, pressing the cool glass to my lips as I glance over to see who just walked in.
I’m a social guy. I’ll talk to anyone, as long as you’re not a douche. I was hoping someone would be here to help me take my mind off the fuckery that’s been swirling around, but from the looks of it I’ll be drinking solo tonight.
The biker who pulled in right after me walks in, full body suit, and I furrow my eyebrows, letting the cool liquid run down my throat, as I take in the shape of this biker’s body.
That’s no dude under that helmet.
She pauses when she gets inside and when she whips her helmet off, my heart almost stops beating.
Mackenzie.
Holy shit.
She hasn’t noticed me yet as she fluffs out her hair and unzips the top part of her jacket, letting her cleavage breathe. Good lord those tits. Twenty-four hours ago I was sucking on those bad boys. I smirk and take another drink, watching her walk across the bar. When she flicks her gaze around the room and those beautiful eyes land on mine, I grin and wink at her. Her face falls and eyes go wide right as the bartender walks over to her, pulling her attention away.
“What’ll it be today, Mack?” the woman says.
“Water. Please,” she mumbles, way too flustered already and only from one wink. I take another drink and turn in my seat, facing the bar again. I’m trying my hardest not to look affected by this woman being in here right now, but I’ve been watching this TV screen for about five minutes already and can’t tell you what’s playing on it. I can tell you, however, that she’s just as nervous as I am- if not more. She keeps adjusting herself in her seat, checking her phone, and a few times out of the side of my eye I thought I noticed her glance over at me.
But that could just be wishful thinking.
After another drink and a text from my brother reminding me of an early morning meeting tomorrow, I motion to pay my bill.
“Leaving so soon?” Mackenzie asks from her seat, loud enough to be speaking to me and obviously because I’m the only one here, but she still won’t look at me.
“Yep.” I shove a twenty across the bar and stand. “Have a good one.”
I hate leaving, but I’m not going to sit here all night with no one to talk to and she’s making it clear she doesn’t want to make small talk with the guy she ditched last night.
I make it out to my bike and have my helmet halfway to my head when she pushes the door open. I smirk as I slide the helmet onto my head. She ran last time, and I’m not going to chase. I only ever chased one girl, and I refuse to do it again.
“Wait,” she blurts, huffing. “I’m sorry for last night.”
The words leave her mouth loudly but I swear I just heard wrong.
I swipe the visor on my helmet up and raise an eyebrow at her.
“I’m not.” I say, standing my ground. “Why’d you leave?”
She stammers on her words, then tosses her head back and lets out this growl sigh thing that’s as cute as it is sinful.
“Can you just come in and let me buy you a drink? Let me explain myself?” She pushes the door wide open. “One drink, Ford.”
I smirk, sliding my helmet off. “One drink never hurt anything,” I say, resigning my resolution to get home early-ish tonight.
When it comes to Mackenzie Mueller, I already know one thing to be true- I can’t tell the girl ‘no.’
She turns and heads back to the table and I have to pry my eyes away from the one place I want to stare the most.
Don’t stare at her ass.
Don’t stare at her ass.
Don’t stare at her ass.
“Didn’t get a good enough look last night?” she asks. My eyes fly up to hers and she’s turned slightly, eyebrows practically sitting at the top of her forehead.
“I wasn’t done with it. I woke up expecting more time with it this morning.” I shrug my jacket off and take a seat at the table she found us in the corner. Not that there’s anyone else here right now to fight for a spot. Even the creep in the corner left a little while ago.
It’s just the two of us.
She signals for two beers and I shift in my seat, leaning back and stretching out.
“I’m sorry I ran.” She picks at her fingernails. Fingernails on a finger that shows no sign of a wedding band or engagement ring and if I wasn’t paying attention, I’d have missed the very faint white line on her ring finger where the ring used to be.
But I’m paying very close attention…to everything she’s doing. The way she’s not making eye contact, the way her fidgeting is making even me feel nervous. Hell, I’m fairly certain her knee’s been bouncing since we sat down. What’s got her so worked up?
“Why’d you do it?” I ask, grabbing my beer as soon as the waitress sets it down.
“I…don’t…know?” She winces and brings the bottle to her lips and I laugh, because she’s so fucking cute and I hate it. Sure I’ve had a girlfriend or two over the years, but looking back I never really cared that much whether or not the relationship went south. I haven’t felt this strong for a girl since Caroline, and even thinking about her as much as I have has the guilt eating at me. It’s not enough to stop me, though. Not when it comes to Mackenzie Mueller.
“Pretty solid fight there, Mack.” I nod.
“So you do know my name…” she narrows her eyes, watching me.
“I do. I know more than you think. So you gonna tell me now?”
“I think I was just embarrassed. I gave in to the great Ford West and he didn’t even know my name. I’ve never had a one night stand and I had to get out of there before it was awkward.”
I bark out a laugh, because that’s a load of shit, and shift in my seat, leaning my elbows on the table to get closer to her.
“So this isn’t awkward at all then, is it?” I lock eyes with her, finally, and those gold flecks shine bright in the dull lighting of the bar. “God, you’re beautiful,” I mutter out loud before I even realize what I’ve said. Her eyes go wide and mouth pops open.
“It wasn’t awkward until right now,” she whispers. I can’t look away. She’s too fucking pretty, but something tells me she’s not all fun and games.
There’s something to this girl.
“Why’d you really run, Mackenzie?” I whisper, low enough for her to barely hear me. I watch as she clenches her jaw and she starts to twirl her bottle on the table, watching it with a worried look on her face, the slight scraping the only noise in the bar.
“Why do you think girls ever run, Ford?” Those beautiful eyes pin mine again and she shakes her head. “I was scared.” She shrugs.
I sit there a moment, unmoving, trying to figure this girl out but I can’t. She’s got walls up on all sides and isn’t about to let me in…she doesn’t want to either. So why’d she ask me to come back in here? Why not just let me go?
“Why,” I push. “I’m not a scary guy, Mackenzie. And last night you thought I was pretty fun. ‘Amazing’ actually.” I grin but she doesn’t. She just lets out a stressed, annoyed chuckle and sits back in her chair.
“You’re too fun and not serious, Ford.” She rolls her eyes, those beautiful as fuck eyes.
“Me? Not serious?” I puff out air and chuckle. “Sorry to tell ya, Mack, but I’m about as serious as they come.” I finish my beer with a gulp and slam the bottle on the table. “I’m just serious about fun shit.”
“You’re not serious about anything important.” She shakes her head. “I know your type, Ford.”
If she only knew how serious my life is she wouldn’t be saying that. On the outside I’m a pretty fuckin’ fun person to be around ninety percent of the time. On the inside, I’ve been slowly crumbling for years now. Maybe she can change it. Maybe she can be the glue. At least for another night until the guilt sets in permanently.
“Oh I have a type?” I let out a laugh, standing up. “I think you just have a stick up your ass about anyone who’s not as perfect as you.” Doesn’t make her any less hot, just makes it a little harder to get through to her that she needs me. I take off towards the door again and her voice stops me. I wasn’t really planning on leaving, but maybe playing hard to get will at least make her open up to me.
“I know I have a stick up my ass,” she blurts loudly and I hear her chair scrape the floor. “My ex-fiancé put it there,” she huffs, standing at the table with her arms crossed in front of her. “I’m working on it,” she murmurs.
Ex?
Ex-fiancé?
Holy fucking yes. I knew it!
I storm across the room, a few long strides and I’m right in front of her. I lean in, her entire body rigid at my proximity to her. She’s so close I could easily pull her to me and crash my lips to hers, breaking the spell she has on me, but I like watching her squirm when we’re so close.
“Can you please not talk about what your ex put in your ass?” I whisper softly in her ear. I hear her small gasp and my eyes narrow at her as she takes a step back.
She clears her throat and blinks a few times, the color on her cheeks perfectly pink. I’d like to see that color on her ass.
“I need to head home.” She grabs her helmet and rushes out the front door. Of course I follow her.
“What’d I say, Mack?” I yell after her as she pushes the helmet onto her head. She flips the visor and my dick jumps. Something about a girl in that getup, straddling her bike, makes me a very needy man.
Her eyes hit mine and pin me to my spot. What’s it with this girl? I can get any girl, but this one makes me want to care. The first girl since Caroline to make me want to care and she’s looking at me with pity in her eyes right now and I have no fucking clue why.
“We’re not good for each other, Ford.” She slides the visor back down and the rev of her bike as she speeds away makes me groan.
I stand there watching her speed off and the only thing I can worry about is that’s the last time I’m ever going to see her. We’ll see about that.
Standing in the parking lot, I pull my phone out and hit that ‘friend request’ button on my Facebook app. She can run, but she can’t hide.
“How long’s it been?” Reagan asks from my couch. She’s practically moved herself in, minus the whole actually moving in part, but I don’t mind. I’m rapidly approaching a date I can’t be alone for. Having her here will help the pain. Plus, she keeps this place clean and I’m not about to complain about that.
“Six days,” I mumble, taking another swig of my beer and staring at my goddamned phone. Mackenzie never accepted my request and now I feel like a fucking tool. Who doesn’t get a girl’s phone number? Who relies on a Facebook friend request to get a girl? Apparently I do.
“Maybe she doesn’t have the app on her phone,” Reagan says, wincing as the words fall from her mouth.
“Maybe you’re just an idiot,” I grumble, finishing off my beer.
“Maybe you’re just drunk. Already. At noon on a Saturday.” She stands and takes the bottle from me, dumping it out then opening the fridge. “Ford, you have nothing but bread, butter, and beer.”
“I like things that start with B,” I say, stretching in my seat. “Bread, butter, beer, boobs,” I say, then laugh.
“Balls. You like balls too, big bro?” She grins at me and I throw a bottle cap at her, making her laugh harder. “Hey, let’s go back to the bar tonight. Maybe she’ll be there.”
“I have work tomorrow. I can’t be hung-over, Reag.” I don’t want to work tomorrow. I want to sleep in after drinking the night away, but my manager’s out of town and someone needs to be there to make sure shit flows smoothly for this wedding shower.
“You don’t have to get drunk every night, Ford. We can go to a bar and not leave plastered.” She shrugs and walks over to me. “I think you need it. You’ve not left the house but to go to work all week.” Her eyes hold more than she’s saying, but she’s not verbalizing her worry for me and for that I’m thankful.
I narrow my eyes at her and take a deep breath. “I’m fine, Reagan.”
“Good. We’re leaving in twenty.” She grins and pats my cheek before heading back to my spare bedroom.
I groan and roll out of the chair, blinking a few times because I may be buzzed already, then head back to my room to grab a fresh shirt. I’m not planning on getting smashed tonight, but a couple more beers won’t hurt. It helps numb the pain that etched its way into my soul years ago. One simple evening turned into a life changing event, and now the only thing that takes away that pain is alcohol.
Well, that and Mackenzie. When I’m with her, I forget about the pain; it doesn’t hurt anymore.
Each year around this time I think it’ll be easier, but each year it ends up hurting more than the one before it. I lost the love of my life when I was almost nineteen. I’m twenty five now and still have no purpose in my life. No desire to do anything better. When I’m around Mackenzie is the only time in the past six years that I’ve wanted anything more than a quick fuck. I want conversation. I want her past.
I want to forget mine.
“You wore a ‘free hugs’ t-shirt to the bar, Ford.” My sister’s eyebrow rises as I slide my jacket off to reveal my most prized possession. Caroline’s parents gave it to me a few months after her funeral. It was a Christmas gift she had bought and wrapped for me that they found in her room. I keep it because it’s fucking comfortable. Not any other reason.
I smirk and signal to Zack, the bartender, for two beers.
“You out lookin’ tonight or just here to hang with your bro?” I ask, ignoring her jab at my shirt, and lean back in my seat to let my eyes scan the room. It’s a Saturday night and this place is packed, but everyone I see is either taken or way too young for my liking.
“I’m always looking, Ford. You should know this. I’m starting to think this city has nothing to offer me but guys named Dot who care too much about what their essential oil holder currently is diffusing and not enough about their ‘girlfriends.’” She rolls her eyes and I bark out a laugh.
“He was a mega tool, Reag. Don’t stress about him. There’s plenty of fish in the sea and you’re still young.”
She smiles and nods, the typical little sister ‘shrug off,’ thanking the waitress who brings us our drinks.
“So what do you think about mom and dad’s vacation?” She asks finally, seemingly bored with the options tonight here.
“I think good for them. They haven’t left here for years. Let ‘em go, we’ll be fine.”
“I know we’ll be fine. I just worry about them. Mom’s not a big traveler. What if something happens? What if something happens to Dad and she’s gotta take care of it?”
I laugh, because my sister’s one of the sweetest people I know when it comes to caring for our parents. Sweet, and kind of stupid.
“Reag, Mom can take care of things. She took care of all three of us assholes, didn’t she?” I raise my glass to my lips and as soon as the cold liquid hits my tongue, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
I pull it out, eyeing a girl across the bar who may just need to come home with me tonight.
“Who texted you?” Reagan asks as I unlock my phone.
Glancing down at the screen, my eyes go wide.
“She accepted my request,” I whisper, a slow smile spreading on my lips.
It’s on, Mackenzie Mueller.