Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Jako is right behind me. “Dude, I’m so sorry. It seemed a little off, but he’s your brother. He looks a lot like you. But I didn’t even know you had a brother.”
My tone is stiffer than my spine. “Yeah, there’s a reason for that.”
At the top of the stairs, I see that my door is standing open. That’s not surprising, since Joe learned to pick a lock before he learned to shave, and the locks on our rooms aren’t exactly deadbolts.
I reach over and try Keaton’s door. It’s locked, and I heave my first sigh of relief.
If Joe steals from me, it’s not the end of the world. Besides, I’m so broke there’s barely any money in my room.
Or was. Sure enough, the bottom drawer of my desk is ajar. That’s where I keep my coffee can. When I yank open the drawer, the can is empty.
“Shit,” Jako says. “I’m so sorry.”
But seriously, I’m mostly relieved. “Dude, this isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter so much anyway. I only had a hundred bucks in there. How long was he out of your sight?”
“Three minutes, tops.”
“All right,” I say, giving him a smile. “Coulda been worse. Let’s not worry about it.”
“Maybe we should tell the other guys not to let him in?” Jako suggests, worrying his hair with his fingertips.
“I guess we’d better do that. Next meeting,” I agree. I can’t wait to hear what Judd has to say about that. The only saving grace is that Keaton wasn’t home when Joe showed up. I don’t want my felon brother anywhere near my fuck buddy.
Come on now.
The disapproving voice brings a sliver of guilt. Okay, that was harsh. Keaton is more than a fuck buddy. We’re friends.
Come on now, the voice chides again.
Fuck off, I tell it.
“Thanks for the heads up, man.” I clap Jako on the shoulder.
“Of course. Poker later?”
“Maybe. I need to shower and proofread an assignment, but I’ll be free later tonight.”
It’s really weird to have no plans. For the first time in forever, I actually have the entire weekend off. It’s a much-needed break. And with finals coming up, I can get ahead of my coursework so I’m not racing to write papers at the last minute.
“Cool,” Jako says. Then he disappears down the stairs, and I disappear into the shower. The sweat from my run slides down the drain, but no amount of scalding-hot water can wash away the layer of grimy disgust evoked by my brother’s visit.
No, not a “visit.” A theft.
I close my eyes under the harsh spray. My disgust dissolves into shame. Can’t scour that off my skin, either. Is it any wonder I don’t trust anybody? My own brother just stole from me. My mother is a leech.
Why the fuck does Keaton want to date me, anyway? What’s wrong with him?
Speaking of the devil, he’s sitting on my bed when I walk in after my shower. “Hey,” he says.
“Hey.” I head for the dresser and fish out a pair of briefs. “What’s up?”
“Everything okay? You look tense.”
“Nah, I’m good.” I don’t mention Joe. I know I shouldn’t wait until the next frat meeting to tell Keaton about it, but… A sigh lodges in my chest. I don’t want to see Keaton’s eyes soften with sympathy. I don’t want him to try to talk to me about it.
“Great,” he says. “Now get dressed. Let’s take that drive.”
I’m really not in the mood. “Can it wait? I need to proof my paper.”
He tips his head. “The one that isn’t due for two weeks?”
“Yeah, but—”
“But nothing.” With a cocky grin, he gets to his feet. “Let’s go. You promised.”
I stare at his muscular back as he saunters out of the room. I swear, nothing fazes this man. I can glower and glare at him all day long, and he won’t bat an eye. My brooding doesn’t bother him. My refusal to talk about my feelings doesn’t test his patience. He’s rock steady, and I don’t get it.
Doesn’t he realize he’s wasting his time?
And yet, despite my reluctance to lower my guard around him, I find myself sliding into the passenger seat of Keaton’s BMW twenty minutes later. Nobody ever said I was smart.
“We’re going out to dinner,” he says as he pulls away from the curb. “I’m kidnapping you, because I want a steak.”
A knee-jerk spike of anger makes me lean back against the leather upholstery and close my eyes. Miraculously, I don’t say anything rude. In fact, I don’t say anything at all. I take a deep breath. “You’re a good friend, Keaton.” He knows I’m having a financial crisis. He’s managed not to offer me money, either. Which I really appreciate.
He’s smart enough not to say anything more.
I take another deep breath. “So where are we going—Outback? Longhorn?” I ask, naming the only two steakhouses near Darby.