Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Everyone knew what Dex and Blair did—they were caught in the basement—and it created major havoc in the house. My lips twist. Yeah, probably because I kicked his ass in the front yard. We had a knock-down drag-out. He ended up with two black eyes and a limp. Someone called the cops and Denny and Ken broke it up.
My own friend, the guy who sat next to me at meetings, who ate meals with me, who laughed with me, screwing my girl. It’s the kind of pain you never forget—because you never see it coming. He pulled the blinders off my eyes and showed me exactly the kind of person he was. A cheater. A user. A pretender. I couldn’t let the betrayal go, and because I was the more promising brother, the officers cut him. The truth is, if you want to be part of our frat, loyalty is key.
He left us and joined the Pikes.
So. Yeah. Got stabbed in the back by my friend and had my heart broken freshman year.
I pull a rectangular pan out of the fridge. “Did someone make lasagna over the weekend?” I raise it up to the ceiling like a gift from the gods. “I am fucking starving.” I check out the top of the noodles. “No fuzz—nice. Who made this and how old is it?”
These are important questions. Benji likes to cook but doesn’t know salt from sugar. Parker, our “dinner pledge,” makes some meals but douses everything in spicy sauces and jalapeños. He nearly killed us last month with chili.
I’ve already scooped out the last square and have it in the microwave.
Benji watches me, a glint of something in his gaze that I can’t decipher.
“What?”
He shrugs. “You’re lucky there’s any left.”
“Oh?” I grab the sizzling dish, plop down on a chair, slice off a bite, then moan as it hits my tongue. “Fuck. Parker did not make this. Who?”
“Ana made it Friday while you guys were in Louisiana. Dude, she didn’t even boil the noodles. She soaked them in hot water for like ten minutes, then bam, they were ready to go in the pan. Her sauce was legit too. Not out of a bottle. She brought everything over here and made it. It was fun. I may have talked her ear off, but she can keep up.”
I pause mid-bite. “She made it for Donovan?”
“Nah. He was in Atlanta with his folks. She made it for whoever was around. I love that girl.”
I stiffen as I send him a long look.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. She’s like a sister.”
I chew. “You’re a horndog. Leave her alone is all I’m saying.”
It’s what I try to do. I never want to be the dude who hits on another brother’s girl. It’s been done to me.
Yeah? What happened today then?
He sits down. “So…the tension in class today. And I’m not talking about the obvious dislike you and Whitman give off. I mean Ana. Things were weird. You were talking outside the door, then you sat together. Want to tell me about it?”
I wipe my face with a napkin. “No. What was up with that woo-woo shit?”
He watches me shovel in more food. A small smile curls his lips. “Oh, let me see. You mean don’t tell her that when your father died and you were in the ICU, he came to you in a vision and told you to ‘wait for Anastasia’? No, wait. He didn’t just say that, he told you three things: take care of your mom, be a good brother, and wait for Anastasia. Do I have it right?”
I toss down my napkin and look over my shoulder to make sure we’re alone. “I told you that when I was slightly intoxicated months ago. I was rambling. You can’t bring it up now.”
He holds up a finger. “First, you were three sheets to the wind. Blitzed. I’ve never seen you that drunk. It was the night Donovan gave her his pin.” Up goes the next finger. “Second, you were as serious as a heart attack.” He holds up a third one. “Also, I’m tired of you being a dick to her. I don’t think anyone else really notices, but I do. You never talk to her. Never look at her. If she walks in, you leave—or grab a girl.”
What the…
His face is serious as he leans in. “You and I both know you believe the vision really happened.”
I hold a finger up. “One, stop mimicking my finger thing. It’s mine and you’re stealing it.”
He chuckles. “Just imitating the best.”
“And, to be clear, I was in a coma for two days, I was fifteen, and I’d just watched my dad die. Of course I’m going to dream about him.” I take another bite, pretending he isn’t messing with my head. “What is up with you today?”