Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Hugh
After the world’s most painful date, I pulled down my street.
Lila had texted me that Kline had walked her home, and she didn’t need a ride.
I didn’t like the idea of her hanging out with him, and it didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
Kline wasn’t a bad guy, but he was a player.
And he definitely wasn’t good enough for Lila.
Turning off my truck, my phone vibrated on the dashboard, and I reached for it.
Cage
Stella Jacobs brought her pig, Princess Lowanda, into the office today and asked if I could give the pig Botox because she thinks she’s looking too wrinkly. I cannot make this shit up.
Georgia
Hey, a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. #nojudgment
Finn
My agent suggested for me to consider Botox. But if the pig can’t get it, I’m going to put my foot down.
Brinkley
I’d like to inject Botox into my boss’s ball sack because he’s a misogynistic pig.
Cage
Remind me never to cross you.
Finn
Didn’t Brinks write on your face with a Sharpie because you wouldn’t give her a ride to the movies to meet that horndog, Scotty Peters?
Georgia
That was me, Finny! And Scotty Peters was hot.
Brinkley
I just ran into him last time I was home, and he didn’t look good.
Finn
He got veneers from Dr. Anderson, who isn’t even a dentist. He’s a dental hygienist. How he is getting away with this shit, is beyond me. So that’s what you get when you go for the too-good-to-be-true deal.
Cage
So… You’re welcome, Georgie. I saved you the embarrassment of dating a dude whose teeth are too big for his mouth.
Brinkley
And he was an odd shade of orange. Like he spray-tanned so many times I think he’s permanently stained.
Georgia
Like tangerine? Cantaloupe?
Brinkley
He didn’t look like a fruit. More like the color of an overcooked sweet potato.
Finn
Damn, I’m hungry now. Where’s Hugh?
Cage
He got sucked into going on a double date with Brax.
Brinkley
Good. He needs to get back out there. He’s acting like an old man.
Georgia
I wish he’d date Lila James. Damn, they would make such pretty babies.
Cage
Um… I’m fairly certain Travis would kill him long before they could procreate.
Brinkley
But, yes… those would be some pretty babies.
I’m home. No one is acting like an old man or making any babies with his best friend’s sister.
I’m leaving all the procreating to you guys.
But thanks for thinking of me, Georgie. I say, give Princess Lowanda the Botox.
And, Brinks, if you need me to come to the city and kick someone’s ass, you just say the word.
Brinkley
And this is why Hugh is my favorite today.
Finn
Because he’s a brute? I’m a lover, not a fighter. Sorry, Brinks.
Georgia
Love you, guys. Going to meet some friends for a drink. I’ll text you tomorrow.
Cage
Gracie keeps coming out of her room after I’ve put her to bed. Remind me to thank Mom for letting her eat an extra piece of cake tonight. Got to go deal with a fucking sugar meltdown.
A slew of heart emojis came through, and I tucked my phone back into my pocket and climbed out of the truck. I saw the light on in the casita when I’d pulled into the garage, and I strode into the house, making my way to her room.
I knocked lightly on the door to the casita.
“It’s open,” she called out.
When I stepped into the room, it smelled like lavender and honey—and Lila.
There was a candle burning on the dresser. Did she have a candle that smelled just like her?
I chuckled because the room looked much nicer than the way I’d had it. She’d added her own bedding that was a lot more girly than the brown down comforter I’d had in here. I’d told her to make the place her own, and she’d definitely done that.
But it wasn’t the white and pink bedding that had me gaping; it was the beautiful woman wearing a pair of tiny white pajama shorts and a little tank top lying on her stomach on the bed, legs bent at her knees, writing in a notebook.
Her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head, and she wore no makeup and looked fucking stunning.
She hurried to sit and pulled the notebook onto her lap and patted the bed beside her for me to sit.
“Hey. How did the date end?” she asked, as she bit down on her bottom lip and waggled her brows playfully.
I sat beside her, and she nearly tumbled into my lap when the mattress dipped down with my weight.
We both chuckled, and I helped her straighten before kicking off my boots.
We both moved to sit with our backs against the headboard.
“Exactly how it started. With Brax pulling his typical shit by offering me up and then begging me to go because he wanted to take out Carly, and she would only go if she brought Brenna.”
“Brenna Wilson? She was in your grade, right? A cheerleader?”
“Yep. And she and Carly proceeded to take about fifteen shots of tequila, and Brax joined right in. So, I got stuck driving their drunk asses home and paying the bill because Brax miraculously forgot his wallet. The fucker.”
Lila was laughing hysterically, and she turned to look at me. “Did you go for the kiss?”
“What are we, girlfriends?” I teased.
“We’re roommates, and we’re friends. So, spill it.”
“Well, let’s see. Brenna vomited before she got in my truck, then again after she got out of my truck, and once more on her doorstep when I helped her to the front door. She went for the kiss, and I shut that shit down.” I shrugged. “How about you? How’d it go with Kline?”
“It was fine. Thankfully, he didn’t go for the kiss, because I wouldn’t have wanted him to, you know? But he’s nice, and we’re going to dinner in a few days, so we’ll see.”
Why was I relieved that she hadn’t hooked up with him?
It didn’t matter the reason, really.
I wanted the best for Lila, and it sure as shit wasn’t Kline Barley.
“What are you working on?” I asked, glancing down at her notebook.
A pink hue covered her cheeks, and she turned to sit on her heels and face me. I couldn’t look down because I wondered if she was wearing panties beneath those tiny shorts, and I didn’t want to stare.
This was Lila fucking James.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“Well, I told you I was making a list. I don’t want to call it a bucket list because that sounds like I’m dying. So… I need to come up with a name.”
“It’s all the things you want to do while you’re home, right?
” I asked, trying to block out the memory of her telling me she wanted to lose her virginity.
That had shocked the shit out of me. The thought of someone touching her bothered me.
But I liked that she’d shared something so personal with me at the same time.
“Yes. Like things I want to accomplish or check off, you know? Things I haven’t made time for before.” She beamed at me like this was the most exciting thing in the world.
“Like a rainy-day list,” I said.
“Exactly. But it’s not a rainy day.”
“How about a Snow Day list?” I laughed because it wasn’t even fucking June yet, but it was a good play on words with her nickname.
“Yes! A Snow Day list. I love it.” She pulled out a Sharpie and wrote the new name on the cover of her notebook.
“So, what do you have so far?” I asked, crossing my legs at the ankles.
“Really? You want to know?” Her tongue peeked out, and my dick jumped to attention.
The fucker hadn’t done anything when Brenna Wilson gripped him under the table tonight, and I had to pry her hand away as she hiccupped a good forty times in a row and then broke out into a fit of giggles.
That shit was not happening. She kept leaning in to talk to me, and her breath smelled like pickles and pina coladas, and if I never smelled either again, I’d be a happy fucking camper.
I cleared my throat and shifted enough to make sure she wouldn’t notice my raging boner beneath my zipper. “I do.”
“Bear. You can’t be talking about this with Travis. This is for me. It’s none of his business.”
“Hey, didn’t you just say we’re roommates and friends? You can tell me anything. Obviously, if someone is bothering you or if you’re in danger, I wouldn’t keep that from Trav. But he doesn’t need to know what’s on your list.” So why the fuck did I want to know what was on it so badly?
“Okay. You promise?” She held her pinky out to me, and I remembered her teaching me all about pinky promises when we were young.
I’d tried doing it with my brothers who had a slightly different strategy when it came to making you keep your promises when we were young, which was basically that if you broke your word, you were going to get your head stuck in a toilet while Finn flushed rapidly and Cage held you still.
They both gaped at me and laughed their asses off when I’d held up my finger.
I’d given it one final shot with my sister, Brinkley, who told me she didn’t trust a pinky promise and that I’d need to put it in writing, swearing I wouldn’t tell our parents that she broke the front window if she agreed to give me her ice cream for a week.
Apparently, Georgia had broken a few pinky promises with Brink when she was in her tattling stage, so the Reynolds kids all required a bit more than just a pinky promise when they were making a deal.
But not Lila James.
She’d always been different.
I rolled my eyes and tucked my hair behind my ear before offering her my pinky. She held it there, and I didn’t miss the way her chest rose and fell rapidly as I moved closer.
“What am I promising, Lila?” I asked. My voice was all tease, but it came out huskier than I’d expected.
“Repeat after me. I, Hugh ‘Bear’ Reynolds, do so solemnly pinky swear that I won’t tell a soul what’s on your Snow Day list. I also swear that I won’t breathe a word of this to Travis, that overbearing, brute of a brother of yours.”