Series: Peach State Stepbros Series by Riley Hart
Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92311 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Where is the fun in that?”
“You’re such a bastard.”
“Hey. I didn’t have to come here and tell you at all. Head over after work, and they might still have it.” I take a step back, and he walks forward. Not like he wants to kick my ass or anything because Troy isn’t violent. That’s not his way. But as he comes toward me, he bumps the table against the wall. There’s a laptop on the counter, where I know Troy will sit and study when there are lulls at work. The screen wakes up, and the first thing I notice is an F.
Troy groans and snaps the computer closed. He failed what looks like a test in his Thermodynamics class.
“You gonna taunt me over that too?” he snips. “I’m already stressed as hell over it, so why don’t you pile even more shit onto me?”
There’s a twinge of regret in my chest, one I don’t know how to voice and likely never will. “I’ll be nice.” I wink as if I’m doing him a favor. Troy rolls his brown eyes that always make me feel like I’m fucking up or doing something wrong. “I gotta go. Have shit to do.”
“Where are you going? What about the alternator?”
“Date,” I lie, then get into my car and drive off, the part he needs sitting in my trunk. I don’t know why I bought the dumb thing for him, or what lie I’m going to tell myself about it. Definitely not because I give a shit, right? Not because I’m a nice guy. And also not because I feel an inexplicable lightness in my chest when Troy smiles.
I’m almost halfway back to my apartment when I realize my shirt is gone. “Fuck.” I must have dropped it. Now I’m never going to get it back. Troy will probably trash it just to be a dick.
I rush to my apartment, take the world’s fastest shower, and then I’m back in my car, heading for Activate Kindness.
I walk in five minutes late.
Dixon, the head volunteer, greets me. “I’m so glad you’re here. There’s already a line out back.” Dixon is a couple of years older than me and graduated from Peach State University as well.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“No worries. We appreciate your coming.” He tosses me an apron, and I put it on. I go behind the counters and get ready to hand out meals. Once they open the doors, people begin flooding in. Peachtree Springs isn’t that big a town, so it always amazes me how many people deal with food and other insecurities, especially when I see where a lot of our tax dollars go and the laws our politicians are enacting. People are starving and don’t have homes or jobs, kids are falling behind in education, the mental health crisis is out of control, yet they’re worried about who uses what bathrooms and not allowing people to go by the pronouns they want. It makes no fucking sense.
Everyone here is friendly, grateful as fuck that there are people who care about them, but unfortunately, we run out of food before we do individuals. That’s always the hardest part and makes my gut sink. Mom used to talk about things like this all the time. When I was little, she would take me to help sort food and clothing for those in need. No matter how much we do, it’s never enough.
“Hey, got a minute?” Dixon asks when those who came to eat are gone and we have everything cleaned up. “Since you were a little late, you missed the discussion during setup.”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“A group of local businesses are running a fundraiser for Activate Kindness. They’re going to do a bachelor auction for a date. I think they wanted to try something different and fun. Feels weird, but I’ll take whatever people are willing to give us—you know we need the money. My first thought was to ask you if you’d participate, but I know you better than that.” Dixon chuckles.
What the fuck does that mean? I’m here doing the work, aren’t I?
“But then I remembered you have a really hot brother, and I was hoping I could convince you to ask him. Having someone from Peach State will help draw some of the college-aged people.”
My jaw tightens, my body feeling like it’s going to overheat. As soon as the reason for my frustration hits me, I bury it because I shouldn’t give a fuck who wants to sleep with Troy or who thinks he’s hot. On the other hand, it’s getting a little old too. Brenner has been telling me he wants in Troy’s pants for a year now. “Step.”
“Huh?”
“He’s my stepbrother.”
“Oh. Whatever. Same thing. Anyway, can you ask him? It’s in mid-November, so we have time to figure it out. And if you want to participate, we’d love to have you too.”