The Boy I Grew Up With Page 50
“Oh God, no!” He held up a hand. “Stop. Please. Do not make me throw up.”
I laughed. “You think I enjoyed hearing your last stalker demand that you pull your dick out of the girl underneath you?”
He groaned again. “Shit. I’m never going to live that down. But one, she wasn’t underneath me. I was the one und—”
“Like I need to know that!”
He kept on as if I hadn’t said a word, grinning. “And Becca is no longer my stalker.” He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “In some way, you’ve acquired her as a stalker. I know she ain’t in Manny’s right now, sitting in a corner booth for my ass. She’s all about Congo being her man. Roy asked if she might need a ride home tonight, and she yelled at him to leave her alone, her man could rip his spine out of his back if he wanted to.”
“And you think Roy left because he was embarrassed about Ava?” I drawled.
“Yeah. I do. Becca’s threats are commonplace. I’m surprised she and Suki haven’t become best friends.”
My eyes almost shot out of me at that thought. I shuddered. “I don’t even want to think about that…the shit they would do.”
“Becca would set fire to some unsuspecting girl, and then Suki would go in and insist she show her the difference between using butternut squash or zucchini for fettuccine noodles.”
I burst out laughing, and the more I laughed, the more I was grateful to Brandon.
“Thank you.” I quieted, feeling a little release in my chest and shoulders. Things didn’t feel so tight between my shoulder blades either. “I needed that.”
“Yeah.”
I heard how knowing he sounded. “What?”
“After your white-trash moment a few days ago, you’ve been working nonstop. And I know Channing hasn’t been crawling through your window. You want to talk about whatever’s going on?”
I shot him a look. “Do you not know me?”
He grinned. “I know. I’m the one who talks about feelings, but I’m kinda serious.” The grin faded. “What’s going on? And don’t lie and say nothing because I know my sister.” He pointed over his shoulder. “You’re always in there, no matter what paperwork you gotta concentrate on. You’re never out here, hiding. Why are you hiding?”
“Brandon.” A low warning from me. “Don’t push this. I mean it.”
“I don’t give a shit. My little sis is hurting, and I want to know why. What’s going on?”
Fuck’s sake. I was just starting to admit it to myself. Now he wants me to spill my guts? That made me want to vomit. That’s a whole ton of feeling and expressing, and I was starting to miss being in a gunfight. Things were more straightforward there.
“I’m just doing paperwork. That’s all.”
His face scrunched up. He was going to argue.
“Dad called.” I was lying, but I had to throw something up. I needed to distract him somehow.
“What?” He leaned away from me. “Why? Is something wrong?”
“Nothing. I mean…” Think, Heather. Stall. Be a big pain in the ass and evade him. “We bought Manny’s from him, but he called about opening up another Manny’s in Florida.”
“What?!”
I cringed.
“He’s in his sixties. And he lives in a fucking retirement RV park. What the hell is he thinking?” Steam could’ve been coming out of Brandon’s ears. He gripped the table and jerked forward. “What’s Brad think of this? He’s down there with him. He’s supposed to be watching over Pops and taking care of him. If Dad’s serious, he should be reining him in.”
I was going to hell. “I think he wants Brad to run it, actually.”
“Are you serious?” Brandon yelled, pushing half out of his seat. “So typical of Brad. Manny’s has been your puppy. Yeah, Dad took care of the books, but you took over everything else. He can’t do this. Dad can’t do this. If he wants to be a part of Manny’s, he needs to buy it from us fair and square. Brad can’t ride your coattails. No fucking way.”
I began to pray, fervently and hard, that this wouldn’t erupt in to a full family battle, but until then… I nodded. “I know. What a dick.”
“Yes! He’s always been a dick. I don’t care if he’s the oldest. He’s the biggest fuck-up of all of us.”
Oh boy. “Well, I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” Brandon stood and began to pace back and forth in front of me. “Thought he was going pro, then he blows out his knee in college. It’s not our fault his baby mama made him marry her. It’s not our fault he’s got five kids. That’s on him. Or that he hates his job. He can’t exploit Dad, and if he thinks he’s going to get a franchise from us for free, he’s in for a rude fucking awakening.”
Well, fuck. Brandon was going to do damage if I didn’t stop this. I had no choice.
I shot to my feet. “Okay, stop!” I thrust my hands in the air. “Just stop. Okay?”
“What?” But his jaw was still clenched.
I hadn’t expected any of that.
“I made it up. All of it.” I lowered my hands, resting my knuckles on the table. “I made it up.”
“What?! Why?”
“Because I don’t want to talk about why I’m out here!” I yelled. “Okay? I don’t want to fucking talk about it.”
“Oh.” But he was frowning, his eyebrows still pulled together. “You didn’t have to lie about that, and that’s a really shitty lie, Heather.”
“I know.” My God. “I know.” I gentled my tone, falling back to sit again. I pulled my hands through my hair, cradling my head. If I could hide from my hiding spot, I would’ve. “I just really don’t want to talk right now, and I’m sorry. Dad didn’t call. Brad’s not exploiting him.”
I heard Brandon sit across from me again with a soft thud. “Now I feel like a dumbass for getting so mad.” He laughed, the sound half strangled. “I almost feel like I should call Brad and apologize.”
I didn’t care—not about that.
I missed Naly.
It hit me in the chest. She hit me there. It was abrupt, and it came out of nowhere, but it was there and I couldn’t push her down.
I missed her in my belly. I missed not having the chance to hold her, to hear her cry, to soothe her, to feed her, to see her eyes looking back at me when I told her I loved her.
I missed not getting the chance for any of that, and I missed Channing, because during that time, it’d been him and me against the world.
I hadn’t been second fiddle to his crew once she was born. But when her little heart stopped, so did that other life I was going to have.
“Heather?”
My brother was staring at me. “You okay? I won’t actually call Brad.”
I couldn’t deny it. I felt it coming. I even knew the catalyst because I’d seen how Channing stared at me when I was in that truck. He’d finished beating his enemy, and his head had lifted, the adrenaline from the fight draining.
“Channing’s going to leave me.” I met my brother’s gaze.
This wasn’t new. He’d had a front seat to our relationship.
He swallowed. “You sure?”