CHAPTER 5
MYLES
“Look on the bright side, man,” Stavros claps a hand on my shoulder, and I desperately want to shove him right off, “at least the dog didn’t piss on you.”
I throw a look his way that has him removing his hand instantly.
This has been a disaster of epic proportions and we’re not even at the holiday park yet.
I didn’t think turning the radio on would result in Hector wetting himself all over my passenger seat, and conversely, Sheridan’s lap. I hadn’t expected the volume to be so loud when I turned it on, or some kind of death metal to be playing at such an insane volume. I’m not even that into death metal, especially not through the radio. Come to think of it, I can’t even remember the last time I listened to the radio in this car—I usually play music through my phone.
The look of utter horror on Sheridan’s face will be painted in my memory until the day I die. She didn’t say a word after requesting that we pull into the first services we came across, just sat silently shivering and clenching her fists while the dog incessantly whined. As soon as we pulled into a space she shot out of the car and took Hector with her. That was half an hour ago.
“Good job they’d got something to clean your seats with,” Beau says, joining me where I’m standing by a fence overlooking the motorway.
He can fuck off, too. “Imagine how much easier it would’ve been if Hector had pissed on your leather seats. It’d just wipe right off.”
“Oh, come on, not you as well.” Beau rolls his eyes.
“I’m just saying. You made your sister feel like a burden all because of your bloody car and now I’ve got a piss-stained seat and Sheridan has been awol for half an hour and is probably devastated. Hope that’s worth it to keep your car clean.”
Beau’s gaze narrows, eyes dragging over me suspiciously. I’ve never felt more seen. Nash and Beau are both incredibly protective over their sisters, and I know I’ve just opened myself up to one of his lectures. How many times have I heard him reem out one of his teammates over an inappropriate comment towards one of the girls? Countless. If I remember rightly, Brinsley has a boyfriend—and I find it odd that he’s not here to celebrate with her this week—so I doubt she’ll apply to his incoming spiel, but I’m not bitching about his attitude toward the strait-laced sister. I’m talking about the one they all seem to coddle.
“Listen up Wilson, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once.” Beau angles his body to face me fully, somehow managing to expand his shoulder breadth like I’m some sort of threat. “Stay away from Sheridan. She’s too awkward and shy for someone like you, and she’s got far too much going on in her own head to worry about your baggage as well.”
“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?” I demand, folding my arms. I know what he’s insinuating, but I want to hear him say it.
“You know exactly what I mean, Myles. Sheridan ain’t the girl for you, no matter how cute you think she is.” Damn fucking cute. “Leave her alone.”
Beau and I have been friends for some time now, but for the first time ever, he’s used my upbringing—or lack thereof—against me. Yes, I grew up in care. No, I don’t have a family of my own to rely on. In fact, I’d go as far as saying that Beau and his brother are my family. I understand his need to protect his sister, but I suddenly feel incredibly alone.
“Nice to know how you really feel about me, man.” I smack the top of his arm and turn away.
“Don’t be like that.” He catches my arm, but I smack his hand away.
“You know, in all the time I’ve known you, you’ve never once used my childhood against me. Until now.”
He’s following me as I stomp my way back to the car. “I’m not using it against you.”
“That’s exactly what you’re doing, Beau. I’m too broken to even be considered for someone you care about. Right? Never mind the fact that I’ve known your sister all of two hours. Get your head out your arse.”
“You’re not broken, Jesus Christ!”
Something churns inside me—something I haven’t felt for some time—that I locked away behind lead-lined walls with a combination code, safe, chain and padlock. I haven’t felt it stir for a while, since before I met the Bennett brothers easily, but right now I can feel it scratching against steel and lead, taunting release.
It’s easy to ignore it and use my words instead.
“Aren’t I? So, you’re telling me that my baggage—you know, not having my own family and growing up in the shitty system—isn’t the exact reason you don’t want me anywhere near your sister? Because I’m damaged?”
“You’re not damaged, Myles.”
“Then use your words better next time. And fuck you for letting me think I’m not good enough.”
When we reach the car, JP is sitting in the back seat with his legs out the side and eating a sandwich. Stavros has disappeared somewhere with Nash, and the girls are all still inside the services waiting for Sheridan. I’ve had all the doors open in the hopes of airing out the smell of dog farts and urine and after dousing the front passenger seat with fabric cleaner and air freshener.
“Still no sign of the girls?” I ask in a tone more clipped than intended.
JP glances between Beau and I while mid-chew. He swallows and shakes his head. “Nope.”
I give him a curt nod. “I’m going to get something to eat.”
Before I have the chance to escape inside, I spot them—all five girls emerging from the front doors of this random Roadchef services like the freaking Reservoir Dogs, with Brinsley at the hilt. But obviously my gaze drifts to Sheridan, who’s changed out of her shorts and vest and into a shapeless white and black pinstripe T-shirt dress with her white high-top Converse. She’s pulled her hair up into a wild mess of pink and blonde on top of her head, and Hector is tucked under her arm.
God help me, I’ve got to spend a week with this girl and pretend I don’t fancy the shit out of her just to appease her anal brother.
“Those Bennett genes are summat else,” JP mutters and earns a swift punch from Beau. He’s leaning over the car now with his arms resting on the roof and his chin on top. His reputation is almost as bad as Beau’s is, except he’s younger and more reckless. Hence the driving ban.
“Paws off, John,” Beau practically hisses.
“Wouldn’t dream of it. Plus, Brin’s boyfriend scares me.”
Beau snorts. “He’s a teddy bear.”
“So are you.” JP winks at him.
Nash and Stavros appear behind the girls, each carrying a McDonalds takeaway bag. I sigh at the thought of my car stinking like grease for the next three days. My poor interior can’t catch a break.
“Here,” Nash says when they’re all within reach of us, and tosses me a wrapped burger, “eat up.”
I’m surprised either of them thought of me when they were buying food, but I’ll take it. I’m hungry enough to eat anything at this point. “Cheers.”
“Are we ready to get back on the road?” Beau rubs his hands together.
I quickly scarf down the double cheeseburger and toss the wrapper before sliding into the driver”s seat. Everyone else piles in after me, including Sheridan and Hector.
“You alright, Shez?” Nash asks from the middle seat, leaning forward.
She clears her throat, giving a nervous wriggle in her seat. “Yeah, fine. I’ve given Hector tablets, he should doze off in a minute.”
“Why didn’t you give them to him before we left Cov?” Stavros scoffs. “Could’ve avoided this whole thing.”
“They make him drowsy.”
I turn a glance over my shoulder. “Maybe we should’ve given them to you instead, Steven.”
Stavros glares at me, but I give him a noncommittal shrug and turn back to face the front. Sheridan seems to be fighting a smile when I glance her way.
We rejoin the motorway, following behind Beau and the girls in the Range Rover. The rest of the journey is silent, leaving me to overthink my conversation with Beau.
I’m mostly frustrated because I don’t think he really means what he said about me—he’s just very overprotective when it comes to Sheridan. We’ve never fought before about anything—not girls, not money, not his dumb car—and I’m irritated that he’d jump on me over one comment about his behaviour towards his twin. There was a time, when I was still in university, that we were so drunk so often that we’d actually share girls. Nash never joined in—he’s got his own preferences when it comes to sexual partners, and I’m not nosey enough to ask.
Also, so what if I fancy his sister a little bit? She’s pretty—anyone with working vision would be able to see that. JP is no doubt drooling over her in the backseat in broody silence, and Stavros is definitely thinking inappropriate things about her—he’s just better at behaving like a tit to cover it up than I am.
I glance over at Sheridan without making it obvious. Hector is curled up on her lap and snoring away, and her hand strokes over his head and neck in a soothing motion. With the dress she’s wearing, most of her legs are on show and the hemline is dangerously close to being considered inappropriate. Not that I’m complaining. She’s staring out the window, just watching the world go by.
I’m not like I was those first few years of studying—I don’t go after women I don’t know the instant I meet them. I’d rather get to know them first, but if getting to know Sheridan is going to cause issues with Beau, then maybe I’ll keep my distance.
I realise too late that Beau has sped off miles down the road, and I’m reminded of how much I hate driving. Beau drives like a lunatic and I’m the complete opposite, for no other reason than that I’ve never felt overly confident behind the wheel of a car. Growing up in London, I never had one, but I wanted to make sure I could drive in case the need arose. Moving to a different city where public transport is limited to buses and taxis, I’m glad I had the foresight because now I drive everywhere.
I let out a sigh and switch lanes, hoping to catch up with him a few miles down the road.