“Your dad seriously gave you sex advice?” Her face contorts into a funny expression, like she can’t decide if she likes it or is disgusted by it.
I chuckle as I caress her outer thigh. “You said it yourself. My dad is a rock legend, and he’s blunt as fuck. He doesn’t hold back, and he always tells it to me straight. My mom was with my dad when they gave us the sex talk at ten, but she doesn’t know Dad spoke to me and Bo again when we were fourteen. He gave us condoms and the safe sex speech but also spoke to us about respecting women, ensuring it was fully consensual, and to make sure we treat them right.”
“I guess I have your dad to thank for your magic fingers then,” she purrs, letting my wrist go.
“Don’t start that shit again,” I growl, only half joking. “The only person you can thank for my magic fingers is me,” I say as I push her panties aside and slide the magic inside her slick warmth.
* * *
“Call me later,” Hollis says, leaning through the window of her BMW to press one final kiss to my lips. “And don’t forget we are picking up our costumes tomorrow after school.” Her best friend is throwing a Halloween party at her place, and most everyone from school is going. I am looking forward to it. I need to release some of this pent-up frustration, and losing myself in my girl and a gallon of beer sounds like the perfect solution.
“Drive safe,” I say, blowing her a kiss. I watch her drive out of the mostly empty school parking lot before I walk toward my SUV.
I decide to stop at our local bakery on the way home to pick up some treats for Mom and my sisters. It’s a French bakery, and Mom adores their almond croissants and lemon tart meringue. I pick up some of them along with a box of macaroons for Fleur and Melody, an éclair for Dad, and cinnamon apple pies for Bo and me.
I know what Bodhi said earlier, but I’m not giving up on him. He’s my brother. We’re as close as twins. Hell, most of the kids at school think we are twins because we look so alike. I know that was only anger speaking earlier. Maybe the pie will soften him up and he’ll agree to at least sit down and talk to me. Despite what he said, I don’t give a shit about me. Bo is the one who was crapped on by Reeve, and I need him to know I am here for him. That I get it and he can vent to me. A part of me understands why he might not want to talk to me about it, but that’s exactly why he should.
We aren’t responsible for the things Reeve did.
It doesn’t change who I am to Bo or who he is to me.
I need him to know I always have his back and he’s my brother through and through.
It doesn’t matter that I can’t reconcile my memories of the man I called Daddy Reeve with the knowledge I have of him now.
I swallow over the messy ball of emotion as I unlock my car and set the cake boxes down on the passenger seat.
It’s a cluster fuck of epic proportions, and I still can’t process how I feel about the fact Reeve chose Mom and me over Bodhi. It’s wrong on so many levels. My heart aches for my brother as I start the engine and glide out into traffic. I have only gone a few blocks when I spot my brother’s truck, parked at the curb, outside a bar that is a known hangout for bikers and career criminals.
An ominous sense of dread tiptoes down my spine as I park my SUV and get out to investigate. It’s almost sunset, and the darkening clouds casts gloomy shadows on the pavement as I walk toward the bar. A noise from the alley to the left of the bar claims my attention, lifting all the fine hairs on the back of my neck. Cautiously, I pop my head into the alley, crouching down as I spot three indistinct figures up ahead. Keeping low and tucked in tight to the wall, I creep up the alley, stopping a few feet from the men and hiding behind a smelly dumpster.
Panic sluices through my veins when my brother’s voice rings out loud and clear. “Thanks, man.”
There’s a rustling sound before a man with a deep unfamiliar voice says, “Nice doing business with you, dude.”
I flatten my back to the wall at the sound of approaching footsteps, hoping I blend into the shadows, as a figure walks by. Bodhi’s expression is grim, his body rigid with stress as he strides past me without noticing.
My heart slams against my rib cage as I watch him shove the packet of pills in his back pocket and exit the alley.