Sissy hands me a drink carrier full of coffees, then walks out from behind the counter with a bag of extra pastries, like always, as she gives me shit about seeing “that old hag” next door before coming to see her. When I remind her that she’s the older sibling, she flips me off.
“Nice to see you, too, Sissy.”
* * *
WHEN I WOKE UP THIS morning, Dare wasn’t here. A sense of panic rose inside of me. Then I panicked even more because I was panicking. Panicking equals falling for someone. Depending on someone. And as soon as that happens, they leave. Everybody leaves.
So much for not getting attached.
As I wash my hair—helping myself to Dare’s shower—the rational side of my brain starts to wake up. He probably had an errand to run, or something. Last night, he implied that he wanted a relationship. Nothing happened to change that in the middle of the night, and he did go out of his way to make sure Jess and I had clothes to survive the winter that we severely underestimated, fucked me like he worshipped me, then bailed my little brother out of a potentially dangerous situation.
Those aren’t the actions of a man who plans to leave.
Once I’m finished, I step out, my wet hair dripping onto the cold floor. I wrap myself in a towel, then brush my teeth with my finger, which is about as effective as it sounds, but it’s better than nothing. Remembering the clothes downstairs, I run to grab the bags and dump the contents out onto Dare’s bed.
Jesus. He really went all out. Beanies, leggings, thermals, boots, long-sleeved T-shirts, a pair of gloves, more of the socks that I plucked off the top of the bag last night. Something lacy catches my eye, and I fish it out from underneath one of those puffy vests. I hold it up in front of me. It’s strappy, black lingerie, and I can’t help but laugh. So maybe his motives weren’t purely selfless.
I decide on a light gray fitted hoodie with the black puffy vest and leggings. I’m surprised to find that not only does it fit, but it still feels like…me. I pull on the pair of tan boots with a black toe. They’re fur-lined and probably the most comfortable thing my foot has ever been inside. They’re maybe half a size too big, but with the right socks, they’ll be perfect.
I hear the alarm on Jess’ phone go off, so I scoop his stuff up and make my way to the room he stayed in. He’s sitting on the edge of bed, shirtless, hands in his hair, appearing to still be half-asleep.
“Hey. Got some things for you,” I say, lifting the bag. He eyes it suspiciously.
“What’s all that?”
“Just some warm clothes. Boots.”
“Where’d it come from?”
I drop my shoulders, sitting next to him on the bed. “Dare.”
“Ah.” He nods. “Eric two point oh?”
“It’s not like that with Dare. I really like him.”
“And it has nothing to do with the fact that he has money and you have…assets?”
“Fuck you, Jess,” I say, standing. “That was a low blow.”
Sure, at first, that was part of the appeal with Eric. But Jess knows it was more complicated than that.
“My bad,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I actually like this guy. It just looks a lot like how things started with Eric.”
It’s not the same. Not even a little. But Jesse wouldn’t know that. He wouldn’t know that I’ve felt more for Dare in the first week of knowing him than I ever felt for Eric, or that Dare fought this thing between us just as much as I did.
“I think he’s broken, Jess. He’s broken, but he still tries to save me every single day. The job, the clothes, the defending of my questionable honor,” I say, huffing out a laugh that lacks humor. “He brought you here when I was too wrapped up in my own shit to realize my little brother was without fucking heat or lights.” I’m still beating myself up for that one. Jess has always been my first priority, and I slipped up this time.
“Oh, come on, Lo.” Jess rolls his eyes. “We’ve probably lived half our lives without that shit.”
“It’s not the same. You were alone.”
“Quit being dramatic. Look, if this guy makes you happy, fuck the rest. I don’t think you’ve ever done a goddamn thing for yourself. I’m not eight anymore, Lo. You don’t have to take care of me.”
“That’s not true. We take care of each other. Always.” I need Jess to know that I’m not going anywhere. Ever. “Like, it’s going to be you, your future wife, and then me hanging out in one of the eighteen spare rooms in your mansion when you become a legitimate hacker for the government or some shit. You aren’t getting rid of me.”
Jess cracks a smile, picking at a piece of fuzz on his pants.
“How were things with Henry the other night?” I’ve been meaning to ask him.
“Good,” he says, and I wait for the but that never comes. “He offered to take me to my first meet. I guess he did wrestling in high school, too.”
“Wow,” I say, shocked and impressed…and maybe a little hurt that I didn’t even know about his meet. “When is it? I’ll see if I can request the day off.”
“It’s like an hour and a half away. Henry said he’d get us a hotel room and we’d make a weekend trip out of it.”
“I still want to go,” I insist, and he nods. I’m proud of Henry for stepping up. I’m wary, but optimistic. Jess needs this. I just hope it doesn’t backfire.
“I’ll send you the information. It’s in my locker.”
I lean over to give him a one-armed hug, then pull away, wrinkling my nose. “You smell like a foot. Why don’t you go take a shower and get ready for school?”
“Blame your stalker. He was the one who cockblocked my shower.”
“What did Eric say to you, anyway?”
Jess shrugs a shoulder. “Not shit. He just said he wanted to talk to you.”
“That’s it?”
“That was it. Well, until your new boyfriend came and smashed your old boyfriend’s car to pieces.”
“What?” I screech, right as I hear Dare’s truck pull up.
“Sorry, I’d say more, but my shower calls.”
“Asshole.”
Jess walks away, chuckling, and I make my way down the stairs to meet Dare at the bottom. I stand on the last step, arms crossed, waiting for him. He walks in, hands full of coffees and two white paper bags.
“Morning, Sally.” He extends the drink carrier toward me in offering, but I don’t take one.
“What happened last night? Did you lie to me?”
“Your brother’s got a big mouth.” Dare sighs, setting the drinks and bags onto the floor, before walking up to me. He still towers over me, even with the extra inches from the step. His arms circle my waist. I arch an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
“I didn’t lie—not technically. I didn’t touch him. He ran his mouth, so instead of killing him, like I wanted to, I beat up his car instead.”
I shake my head, hating that he’s involved in this at all. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why are you worrying about him?” he asks, his voice slightly more accusatory than I’m okay with.