Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Both Izaac and I stare at Austin completely dumbfounded. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my brother give a sincere apology to anyone who isn’t our mother in his whole life. “The fuck?” I blanch.
“And?” Becs prompts, clearing her throat and giving Austin a nudge.
He lets out a heavy sigh. “And I hope you can accept my apology in the form of shots.”
My jaw drops, still gaping at my brother. “Are you ill?” I question, hastily stepping into him and pressing my hand to his forehead. He’s not running a fever.
“I’m fine,” he mutters, shoving my hand away and rolling his eyes. “Do you want the damn shots or not?”
“Uhhhh, of course. Is that even a real question? But I’ll only accept the shots as an apology if you actually pay for them,” I state, my chin held high in defiance.
“But I—”
I hold up my finger to silence him. “Telling the bartender to put them on your tab when you know damn well that Izaac is going to wipe it at the end of the night doesn’t count. You need to hand over that cold, hard cash brother.”
Izaac laughs from behind me, clearly amused as Austin’s shoulders sag. “Fine,” he mutters, his gaze flicking back to Becs as if seeking some kind of approval. I watch them closely, not sure how she managed to sink her claws so deep in such a short amount of time.
“Now,” Becs declares. “Hug it out.”
Both Austin and I blanch. Hug? She’s got to be kidding herself. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brother more than life, but we draw the line at showing any form of physical affection. His way of telling me he loves me is by crash-tackling me onto the couch and sitting on me. There’s certainly no hugging.
Austin cringes and turns his gaze back to mine before making a move to get up. He looks as though he just sucked a lemon by accident. He makes a move toward me, his arms going wide and looking just as horrified as I feel when I fix him with a hard stare, crossing my arms over my chest. “If you even think about putting your stanky arms around me, Austin Ryder, I will drop you to the ground so damn fast you won’t even know what century we’re in.”
“Oh, thank fuck,” he says with a heavy sigh, retreating so damn fast that it all could have been in my imagination. He holds my stare, relief flashing in his eyes. “That was a close one.”
“Tell me about it,” I murmur, moving in closer to the bar. “I’m gonna need those shots now.”
“Coming right up,” Austin says before getting the bartender’s attention, and considering Izaac is with us, the bartender immediately caters to us despite the busy lines, making us their most valued VIPs for the night.
As our shots are poured, I glance up at Becs. “What the hell did you do to my brother?”
“Oh nothing,” she coos, a smirk pulling at the corner of her lips that has her eyes flashing with silent laughter. “Just helped him to see the error of his ways is all.”
“I think you just became my hero,” I laugh.
Becs grins, and not a moment later, we’re each handed a shot, and I watch with undeniable delight as Austin digs into his wallet and pays. Izaac reaches between me and Austin, scooping up the final shot off the bar. “Wow, never thought I’d see the day you paid for your own drink,” Izaac teases Austin as laughter bubbles up my throat.
“Shut up and take your shot,” Austin says, and with that, I lift the glass to my lips and tip every last drop down my throat.
8
IZAAC
My arm loops around Austin’s back as we climb out of the Uber, trying to hold his drunk ass up as Aspen rushes around his other side, laughing as she mimics my hold. “Okay, maybe he took the whole getting fucked up thing a little too literally,” she snickers as Austin tumbles over his feet.
“Ya think?” I mutter, dragging him toward the front door of the home we all grew up in.
“Hey,” Austin slurs. “I’m not drunk. I’m just . . . Uh-oh—”
Aspen pauses in the middle of the driveway, bringing us to a halt as she gapes at her brother. “You don’t look so—”
Vomit surges from the deepest pits of Austin’s guts, redecorating the driveway and narrowly missing Aspen’s heels as she hastily jumps away. “Gross, Austin,” she screeches in pure disgust as he doubles over, practically dislodging my shoulder in the process.
Vomit goes everywhere, splattering all through Angella’s rose bushes, and I cringe as I hold my breath, the smell instantly assaulting my nostrils. “Fuck, man. Your mom is gonna kill you.”
“Nah, she loves me. It’ll be fi—Awww fuck—” he starts round two, violently heaving and throwing up every last drop of alcohol lining his stomach, cutting off his delusional words about how his mother isn’t going to tear him a new asshole first thing in the morning.