Less
I actually don't mind having company.
Which is surprising.
Because generally speaking, I hate people.
Not all people.
Just most of them.
But Brielle makes Amanda laugh, and that's enough for me.
And if Rusty wants friends around?
Then friends she gets.
Even if I'd personally rather have her all to myself.
Not that I'd ever admit that out loud.
Well.
Maybe to the guys because they know what it feels like.
They’d still promptly tell me to stop being a possessive asshole.
The thought makes me grin as I gather cold drinks from the fridge.
Amanda's laughter drifts in from the dining room.
And God.
I love that sound.
Three years without hearing it should've killed me.
Instead, it just made me appreciate it more.
Everything about her.
The way she talks with her hands.
The way she hums under her breath while cooking.
The way she instinctively leans against me whenever we're sitting together.
It's domestic.
Simple.
Perfect.
And terrifying, but only because now I know exactly what I'd lose if anything happened to her.
I set down the drinks.
Grab more napkins.
And I make a mental note to run a background check on Nick later.
Not because I dislike the kid.
I don't know him enough to dislike him.
But I don't know him.
And that's enough.
Amanda trusts people too easily sometimes.
I don't.
Never have.
Never will.
“Less? Can you get the hot sauce?” Amanda calls from the other room.
“Sure thing,” I respond.
Then, I’m digging through cabinets for the hot sauce she likes—the green one.
“Need help?”
I glance up.
Brielle's standing in the kitchen doorway.
Nice girl.
Pretty smile.
Not my type.
Because my type is currently sitting in the dining room eating noodles and laughing at something Nick said.
“I'm good,” I tell her.
She leans against the counter.
“You know, Amanda talks about you constantly.”
I smile before I can stop myself.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“She missed you a lot.”
My chest tightens.
“I know.”
“And now you're back.”
“That I am. And I plan on staying.”
Brielle studies me.
“Good.”
Then she smiles.
“You know, before I met you, I figured Amanda was exaggerating.”
“About what?”
“How handsome you are.”
I snort.
“Trust me, sweetheart, she exaggerates all kinds of things.”
She laughs.
“No seriously. I expected some old military guy with a buzz cut.”
“Rude.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Not really.”
“You've got that whole broody thing going on.”
“What?”
I’m only half listening as I continue my hunt.
“And you do have all those sexy tattoos.”
“Excuse me?”
She laughs again.
“Relax, Less. I'm complimenting you.”
“Well, stop it. You're making me uncomfortable.”
“Seriously?”
“Very.”
This conversation is weird, but I found the hot sauce, so I’m happy.
Brielle shakes her head.
“Poor Amanda.”
“Why poor Amanda?”
“She has to deal with all this charm every day.”
She gestures to me.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I tell her and grab the extra soy sauce as well.
Brielle bursts out laughing.
“Come on, you know you're attractive.”
“Uh—”
I grab the napkins.
“Look, I know Amanda thinks I'm attractive, and honestly that’s good enough for me.”
“Big difference between that and conceit I guess,” she says.
Something flickers across her face.
But it’s gone so quickly I miss it and honestly, this has been weird enough for me.
“She's lucky, you know,” she says quietly.
“Nah.” I shake my head immediately. “I'm the lucky one.”
And I mean it.
Every word.
Because Amanda chose me again.
Knowing all my baggage.
Knowing all my mistakes.
Knowing exactly how screwed up I can be.
She chose me anyway.
Brielle smiles.
“That's sweet.”
She studies me another second.
Then laughs.
“God, you're gone for her.”
“Hopelessly.”
“Wow.”
“Yep.”
“Not even embarrassed?”
“Nope.”
“Interesting.”
“Why?”
“Nothing.”
She smiles again.
But it looks sad.
Like she's disappointed about something.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“Sure.”
She straightens.
“Just happy Amanda finally got her happily ever after.”
Before I can answer, Rusty's voice floats in from the dining room.
“Less? Did you get lost looking for hot sauce?”
I grin immediately.
“Nope! I got it.”
Brielle laughs.
“You better go. Your girl sounds impatient.”
“She's always impatient.”
“Lucky you.”
Damn right.
I head back toward the dining room.
Back to Amanda.
Back to my favorite place in the world.
Behind me, I hear Brielle softly whisper something.
So quietly I almost miss it.
“Yeah,” she murmurs. “Lucky her.”
But all I can think about is my Rusty waiting for me.
And honestly?
Nothing else matters.