Chapter 6
EVERLEE–HOME SWEET HOME
The spring sun warms my face when I step outside the airport.
Closing my eyes and tilting my head up towards the sky, I soak in the rays and feel the warmth on my skin.
It’s at least twenty degrees warmer here than it was at home yesterday, which in part is because of the weather system moving through, but also because I’m further south.
Warmer weather and humidity. My shoulders give a light shake to the thin cape of moisture that has settled around me.
A flurry of people walk up and down the sidewalk, looking for their ride among the row of cars lined up.
Stepping forward and leaning over the curb, I look for my brother in the sea of cars.
Not finding him, I shift my carry-on bag to pull my phone out of my back pocket to text him at the same time a horn honks, and a silver SUV speeds to a stop in front of me.
Sitting in the driver’s seat is Beckett, with his mop of brown hair, wearing a schmedium mint green shirt.
It’s half a size too small for him, hugging his chest and biceps tightly, with some logo on it.
I don’t recognize it, but that’s the case most of the time now, since he makes his own shirts.
He got a Cricut for Christmas and designs all sorts of things for shirts, cups, laptops, and anything else he can put stickers on.
If I get one more cup that has my name on it, I’m going to scream!
“Get in the car! It’s freezing!” he yells through his passenger window, rubbing his hands together for extra emphasis.
Laughing and rolling my eyes, I walk around to his trunk and wait for him to open it. I toss my bags into the immaculate space and can’t help but compare it to Lizzy’s wreck of a trunk. My luggage barely fit in hers, and here in Beckett’s, it’s sprawled out like a starfish on the beach.
When I climb into the passenger seat, I reach across to give him a hug. After a moment, he pulls back and runs his hands around my hair and cheeks, then asks without hesitation, “Who’s the man?”
Fucking two of them. I can’t escape their sex wizardry. “Who’s your man? You seem extra giddy and these muscles. Hubba hubba,” I fire back, squeezing his arms.
“Oh stop. We’re not talking about any guys I’m seeing. We’re talking about you right now.”
“Why?”
“You’ve been fucked recently.”
“Are you kidding me right now? Do I have ‘ask me about my sex life’ stamped across my forehead?”
He stares down his nose without speaking.
All I can do is shake my head and look out of the window, as memories from last night replay in my mind. The buzz on my skin under their touch, their lips on me, Callum’s cock inside of me… Jax.
“You tell me now, or I’m calling Lizzy. I just talked to her two days ago, and she said nothing.”
“You talked to Lizzy?”
“Don’t change the topic!” He bats the air. “Who is it?” He grabs my arm, gasping, “Please tell me you haven’t gone back to dickface.”
“God, no!”
“Lizzy said he tried to reconnect after Valentine’s Day.”
“Yes, but I shut him down. That is never happening again. Be sure of that.”
“Praise sweet baby Jesus! I didn’t want to have to kill a man on Easter weekend.”
“You’re too much. And again, why were you talking to Lizzy?”
“We talk all the time. Mostly about boys and fashion, and recently about you.”
“What about me?”
A car blares its horn behind us, urging us along to the exit.
“Oh, fine!” he yells, waving his hand in the air before turning out.
He cranks up the volume on the music as we pull onto the road, but I quickly turn it back down. “Uh-huh, buddy. Spill.”
He lets out a dramatic sigh, flopping his hands around. “She was just worried about you and told me to help you get some dick this weekend since you haven’t had any for a while, but looking at you, I can see she was mistaken. Which never happens.”
I reach over and turn the volume back up and look out of the window.
The thinned trees lining the road reveal hints of the wet marsh just behind them.
Some trees are starting to bloom and fill in, but it’s still pretty spotty.
It’s nice being home, but I’m definitely missing the guys.
I still haven’t seen Emmett or Knox, and things between Jax and Callum were left…
in a weird place. My stomach tightens just thinking about them.
Am I really going to talk to them? Nothing has changed.
I would still have to pick them over my family. Lizzy at least knows.
No. This weekend I’m going to focus on my family, so when I see them next week, I’ll feel recharged. And hopefully know what the fuck I’m going to do.
Confident we’ve moved past the inquisition into my sex life, I look at my brother and turn the music down. “Tell me about you. What’s been going on?”
He side-eyes me cautiously.
“Oh stop. I haven’t seen you in several months. Are you still dating Cannon?”
He laughs out loud. “Cannon. God no. We were just messing around. He’s not boyfriend material.”
“You say that about all the boys you’re with.”
“Because it’s the truth.”
“Are you looking for boyfriend material?”
“Ehh.” He shrugs.
“Didn’t realize you were such a man-whore.”
“Well, someone in the family has to be. Plus, if I always have someone, then Mom can’t try to set me up on dates.”
I pull my face. “She’s still doing that.”
A sly grin spreads across his face like he knows something, but won’t tell me.
“Beckett. What?” I slap his arm out of reflex.
“Nothing.”
“Not nothing. I can tell by the wicked little look on your face you’re hiding something from me.”
His nose scrunches.
“Beckett. I swear, if you don’t tell me now!”
“Mom may have invited someone to this weekend’s festivities for you to meet,” he blurts out, bringing his fingers to his lips like he’s nervously biting them.
The blood drains from my face, and my hands grow clammy, betraying every ounce of panic I’m trying to hide.
I absolutely hate being set up, especially when I don’t know about it and Mom is the worst. Always these strait-laced types who seem to fear their own shadow.
All of them from her church, which I don’t have a ton against, but she doesn’t seem to understand we live in different cities and have different lifestyles.
“Who?” I bark out, letting some of my frustration for the situation bleed over onto Beckett.
“I don’t know.” He changes his voice to a higher octave to imitate our mother, “But she’s going to love him. He’s so handsome and a lawyer.” His hands flop in the air around him like he’s a little bird learning how to fly.
I roll my eyes. “Remind me what we’re doing again?”
“Tomorrow we have an event hosted by the church for Mrs. Mary Mae, and Sunday the church is putting together an Easter egg hunt by the lake for all the kids. Mom voluntold us, so we’re hiding eggs Sunday… at like seven in the morning.”
“Jesus.” I wince. I hate getting up early, especially on weekends. It should be a rule or something. The weekend is my time!
“Yeah, brutal, so you can’t be staying up all night banging the lawyer.”
I cut my eyes at him.
He laughs. “My department is also bringing a fire truck by for the kiddos.”
“That’s fun. Do you still like it?”
“Being a firefighter? Yes.” He laughs like it’s a stupid question.
“Mom still worried?”
“Every day. It’s been eighteen months.”
I pat his arm. “You’re her baby boy.”
He glares at me, his face stone-cold serious.
“I need you to make a scene this weekend so you can take all the attention and give me a break. Then, after you leave, she’ll be too worried about you to focus on me.
Try to make it an enormous fuck-up so you can buy me at least a month.
” He overlaps his hands and rests his chin on them with a Cheshire grin.
I press my fingers together. “I’ll think about it.”
“If not, I will sabotage.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I one hundred percent would. I don’t think you understand the severity of my situation.”
“The amazing thing to me is that you’re a grown-ass man. You can move out of their house and into your own.” I explode my hands from my head.
“Don’t start that bullshit again. I have a good gig.”
“Yeah, you do. But you still live with mom and dad. Have you had any guys over with them there?”
“Seems personal.”
“And asking me who I’ve banged recently, the second my ass touches your seat, isn’t?”
He puckers his lips. “Touché.”
Happiness bubbles under my skin. I’ve missed him. This.
This is going to be a good weekend. Hopefully, it will provide clarity on what to do about the guys. Maybe I can somehow bring it up with my parents? Fear grips me. No. What am I going to say? Hey, so I’m dating four men…
Pressing my head against the window, I let the cool feeling calm my nerves as I watch the trees flick by.
Don’t think about the guys this weekend. Enjoy the time with my family.