“Shut the fuck up!” Roman jumps to his feet and clenches his jaw. “Let’s not talk about my sisters and fucking at the same time. That shit won’t be happening. I need a damn minute before I kill someone.”
Ben’s gaze lands on me the moment Roman walks out of the garage. “If you want Quinn then maybe I can take the baby sister to Prom. Dakota is growing into one fine as fuck—”
Before the words can leave his shitty mouth, my fist smashes against it and he’s falling back into a pile of old boxes.
“Say Kota’s name again and I’ll rip your throat out.” I get down in his face and flex my jaw. I’m so fucking pissed I could kill him. “You will never touch her. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Whoa! What the hell is going on in here?”
Stiles comes running from the doorway, where he was attempting to smoke a joint. “Why are you two fighting? Easton gets to take Quinn to Prom, so get the fuck over it.”
When I look up at the doorway, my heart about stops when I see Dakota standing behind Stiles with her arms crossed.
She takes one look at me towering over Ben and shakes her head. “You two are fighting over my sister now? How pathetic. I’m going to bed.”
“Kota.”
I get ready to stop her from walking away, but just then Roman comes back into the garage, looking pissed. “Well, looks like the whole world knows about you and Quinn. Might as well let it happen now.”
He grabs Ben’s arm and helps him up, before pushing him toward the door. “You can get the fuck out.” He turns back to me. “And you better not hurt my sister or I’ll hurt you. I’m going to bed too. Shit, I’m over this day.”
After everyone leaves the garage, I continue working on my bike, giving myself some time to think. I should be thinking about Quinn and what I’m going to do about her wanting me to take her to Prom, or even the fact that she wants to be my girlfriend.
But all I can think about is the look Dakota gave me when she thought me and Ben were fighting over Quinn.
It was almost as if she was jealous, but I can’t be for sure. Just the thought of her being jealous over me wanting her sister has my chest feeling heavy.
I want Dakota more than any-fucking-thing else, but I can’t have her.
Could she really want me too?
Standing to my feet, I begin pacing around the garage, trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
Then next thing I know, I’m leaving my bike behind and jumping in my truck to get home, so I can call Dakota. I need to talk to her before bed tonight or else everything will be a huge mess tomorrow.
When I get home, I stop in the living room and take a few minutes to watch my dad asleep in his favorite chair.
He looks old… as if he’s aged at least ten years, just over the last ten months. Seeing him this way breaks me every damn time, but I fight my damnedest to stay strong for him.
Trying my hardest not to wake my father, I carry him into my parents’ room. I’ve told my mom numerous times to leave him for me, because I hate my mom hurting her back by attempting to help my father to bed, like she has in the past.
When I lay him down in bed and cover him up, he barely even knows I’ve moved him at all, and if he does, he doesn’t give any indication that he does.
“I love you, Dad. I’m so sorry that I was gone all day today. I promise to be home early tomorrow. I sort of have a situation I need to talk to you about.” I stop and take a deep breath, feeling my emotions build up. “Maybe you can give me some advice on what a guy is to do in this situation. I really need you right now. I just… Never mind. Goodnight, Dad.”
I stand up and squeeze my eyes shut, fighting back the urge to cry. It’s so damn hard seeing him this weak and fragile that it’s difficult being around the house as often as I should be.
I don’t want him to see me cry. I don’t want to make him feel any guilt that he’s leaving us soon. Now, after seeing my father, I want nothing more than to talk to Dakota.
I need to talk to Dakota. Just like every night.
When I get back to my room, I don’t even bother stripping down to my underwear like usual, before digging into my pocket for my phone and dialing Dakota’s number.
My stomach sinks when she doesn’t pick up. It’s the first time this has ever happened, and I don’t like the feeling one bit. “Come on… don’t be asleep yet.”
I give it a few seconds and try calling her again.
This time she picks up, right as I’m about to give up and hang up the phone. My heart speeds up at the sound of her voice. “It’s late, Easton.”
“I know… I just wanted to talk before bed.” She doesn’t say anything, and I can’t tell if it’s because she’s tired or upset. “Kota. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
She breathes heavily into the phone before speaking. “Just thinking about Justin’s offer. He’s not a bad guy. Maybe I should give him a chance.”
I flex my jaw so hard that it almost hurts.
Say what?
“Are you fucking serious?”
“Yeah, why not? It’s obvious that he’s trying to get with me, and he doesn’t care who knows. Maybe he can be my first kiss.”
“Wait…” I pause for a second, feeling shocked yet somewhat happy that Dakota has never been kissed before. “You’ve never been kissed before?”
“I haven’t really wanted to be. But maybe I do now. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
There is if it’s not me doing the kissing.
“Well, that Justin guy shouldn’t be your first damn kiss, Kota.”
“Maybe he should be… I guess I won’t know if I never give him the chance, right?”
“Maybe he doesn’t deserve a chance, Kota. Ever think of that? Not every guy deserves a chance with you just because they fucking want one.”
“What the hell is your problem, Easton? I don’t need your attitude right now. Why don’t you focus on what you’re going to wear to Prom when you take my sister instead of what I’m doing with my dating life.”
“You don’t want me to worry about you?” I feel sick just asking her the question. “And if you don’t want me to take Quinn then I’ll tell her no.”
“No, don’t do that.” Her response is quick and emotionless. “Quinn is amazing and she’s really excited about you taking her to Prom. You’ll crush her if you don’t, so I think it’s a good idea for you to ask her. Please don’t hurt her.”
I could never hurt Dakota, and her asking me not to hurt Quinn gives me no other option, because I’d do anything for Dakota. “Alright, I’ll ask Quinn then. I’ll ask her tomorrow.”
The phone is quiet for a few moments, before I hear Dakota’s soft voice. “Goodnight, Easton.”
I swallow. “Goodnight, Kota Brooks. Don’t think for one second that these phone calls will end because of me taking your sister to Prom. Promise me you won’t expect that from me?”
“I guess we’ll just see what the future brings, but I don’t think either one of us can predict that. So, let’s not try.”
Her response feels like I’ve just been hit in the chest with a ten-ton brick.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” is my only response, because if I allow myself to say anything else, it won’t be anything I should say.
What the hell is happening?
Things are about to change majorly with the Brooks family, and I’m not so sure I’m going to like it.
Dakota
When I arrive at my parents’ home, I sit in the driveway, giving myself a few moments to collect my disorderly emotions. My head has been messed up all day, and after running by the graveyard, I’ve been overwhelmed with guilt over my kiss with Easton even more than I already was.
What makes it even more difficult, is that I can still feel the burn of his lips against mine, consuming me and setting my entire body on fire with need. My body has never reacted this way to anyone else’s touch before. I’ve never been able to close my eyes and still feel their skin l
ike I can with Easton.
Taking a deep breath, I slowly exhale and step out of my car. It’s been ages since I’ve driven this thing, but having Easton around—the reminder that he’s the one who taught me everything I know about motorcycles, including how to ride one—had me leaving mine at home.
I don’t need anything to remind me of Easton tonight. What I need is to keep him as far away from my thoughts as possible while he’s here in town. That’s been my plan since the moment I laid eyes on him again, but apparently, he had other plans, because everywhere I turn he’s there in my space, suffocating me and reminding me just how impossible forgetting him truly is.
Easton Crews is the one boy I’ll never be able to forget no matter how hard I try, and trust me, I’ve tried repeatedly until I felt I had nothing left to give.
I pause at the front door, just about to open it when I hear a noise come from the garage. It’s probably my dad working on his bike, waiting on dinner, so I head that way, needing to apologize for skipping out on work today. I felt bad for doing it and I hate that he sounded so disappointed over the phone.
“Hey—” I poke my head into the garage, my words freezing in my throat when I find Easton crouched in front of my dad’s bike.
He looks up, his eyes meeting mine, and I swear I’ve just melted right before him. Those eyes. They get me every single time. “It’s just me.”
He stands and wipes his hands off on an old rag, watching me as I look him over, standing there in a pair of dark, fitted jeans and the black button-down shirt I gave him on his nineteenth birthday.
I didn’t expect it to fit him perfectly and make him look so painfully sexy. I immediately regret getting it for him. It’s been years since I’ve seen him in it, and it fits him better now than it ever did back then.
It’s snug across his chest, showing the shape of his sculpted body, and with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposing his tattoos, I’m finding it hard to breathe.
“We need to talk about that kiss, Kota.” He tosses the dirty rag aside and steps toward me. “I don’t like that you missed work today to avoid me. It’s not going to work forever.”
I shake my head and take a step back before he can get too close. “Maybe me missing work had nothing to do with you, Easton.”
He lets out a sarcastic laugh and runs a dirty hand through his hair. “I don’t buy that shit for a second. I know you. You don’t ever miss a chance to work on bikes.” He takes another step forward, until I’m standing right in the open doorway; any farther and I’ll be outside. “I don’t regret kissing you, Kota. It might’ve been wrong for me to do it without asking, but you can’t deny that it felt good. That you want to do it again. Tell me I’m wrong.”
I swallow when he grips the doorframe and looks down at me, waiting for me to say something. But I know if I say anything, it’ll be a lie, and I hate lying to Easton. It’s always hurt.
“Does our kiss really matter when you had Sylvia kissing all over you minutes later?”
He lowers his head, so that his lips are hovering over mine when he speaks. “Fuck yes, it matters. I don’t want Sylvia. I want you.”
“Dakota. Time to eat. Get Easton and get in here.”
My brother’s voice has me clearing my throat and taking a step back before he can see us so close. “We’re coming.” I say back.
Easton’s eyes burn into me as he releases the doorframe and brushes his hair out of his face. I can tell he’s not happy with not getting to finish our conversation. I know he won’t let it go unfinished for too long either. That scares the crap out of me. I can’t admit to him that it felt good to kiss him. Not with how guilty I feel about Quinn.
“I’ll wash my hands and be in,” he says, his voice full of frustration. “We’ll talk about this later, alone.”
I don’t know what to say, so I turn and walk away. When I open the sliding door, my brother is in the kitchen, snacking on pieces of salad. I narrow my eyes at him, and he gives me a confused look. “What the hell did I do now?”
“Oh nothing,” I say through gritted teeth, slapping his hands away from the bowl before he can put his dirty hands back in. “Stop eating with your fingers. I don’t know where they’ve been.”
“You don’t wanna know either,” he says cockily.
“You’re disgusting.” I push his shoulder and snatch the salad bowl, digging some of the top pieces out and throwing them away to be safe. “Your friend said he’ll be in after washing his hands.”
“My friend?” he questions. “Give the guy a fucking break. It was three years ago, Dakota. He’s still practically family whether you like it or not.”
That’s the problem.
“Is he, though? Because I haven’t heard from him in years.”
Easton walks in and we both immediately stop talking. He eyes us over, most likely catching on that we were talking about him before he interrupted. “I’ve got that.” He grabs the salad bowl from my hand and digs a piece out with his fingers.
“Seriously? At least I know one of you washed your hands. I’ll be in the dining room.” I leave the boys alone and walk into the dining room. Both of my parents are setting up the table and stop to look when they hear me coming.
“Is your brother bringing the salad or just eating it?” my mother asks, smiling as she rearranges the bowl of noodles so that it’s in the middle of the table. “I asked him to get you and Easton and bring the salad over five minutes ago.”
“Eating it,” I say, right as my brother and Easton walk out of the kitchen.
Roman hands the salad to our mother when she reaches for it, before taking a seat in his usual spot, followed by Easton sitting in the spot beside Quinn’s chair that is now empty.
My stomach sinks when Easton looks at Quinn’s old chair, before quickly turning away and thanking my parents for having him for dinner, his voice thick with emotion.
It’s the first time Easton has joined us for dinner since my sister’s been gone, and I’ll admit, it’s not easy seeing him there while she’s not. He must be feeling it too, because he’s looking a bit uneasy now.
Once everyone has settled down and made their plates, my mother looks up from hers and smiles at Easton. “You didn’t tell us how long you plan to visit for. Are you staying for a while?”
My ears perk up, but I try my best to not look so eager for his response. I want more than anything to know the same thing. Not knowing has been torture since the moment he blew into town, nearly knocking me on my ass.
“Not long.” He pauses to wash down his food with his drink. His eyes linger on me for a moment too long, so I turn away and pretend to mind my own business. “I have my own shop back home, so I can’t be away for too long.”
My head shoots up and his half-smirk proves that he noticed my reaction. He wants me to care and now he knows I do.
“That’s right. Easton was telling me all about Crews’ Mechanics the other day.” My father smiles proudly at Easton from the head of the table. “I always knew you’d have your own shop one day. You were always a hard, dedicated worker. I’m proud of you. Your father would be too.”
“Thank you, Sir. Appreciate that.”
“Hell yeah. I’ll have to make a trip to visit it someday,” my brother adds. “I’m seriously proud of you.”
My stomach sinks at the knowledge that he has a shop back home to run. It’s the opposite of what I was expecting to feel. I should be relieved that he has something holding him back from sticking around too long. But why do I feel anything but?
“Who’s running your shop while you’re here?” I ask, wanting to know more.
“My head mechanic Trevor.” His eyes meet mine again from across the table, and my traitorous heart skips a beat just like every single time. I hate that he has such power over me. “He’s been there since the day I opened the shop. I trust him. Plus, he knows where to find me if I’m needed. I just can’t make it a long-term thing.”
“When did you open the shop?”
The stupid questions keep flying from my mouth, because as much as I want to keep Easton at a distance, there’s no denying that I’ve spent the last three years wondering about his life. What he’d been doing. Who he’d been with. If he was happy without us. Mostly the last part, though. I wanted to know that more an anything.
All eyes are on Easton, waiting for him to speak, but his eyes are glued to me, not realizing that my whole family is watching him.
It takes me kicking him from under the table for him to pull his eyes away. “About a year after I moved away. I started out with one mechanic and five clients and grew from there.”
“Gotta start somewhere. My shop wasn’t always the size it is now. You’ll grow with time.”
Everyone falls into easy conversation after that icebreaker, yet I can’t seem to concentrate on what anyone is saying, because I’m too preoccupied replaying what Easton said to me in the garage about wanting me. It doesn’t help me focus the way he occasionally licks his lip, drawing my eyes right to them every single time. I keep imagining him kissing me again. The beads of moisture building above my brows have me breaking a sweat.
When I can’t take it anymore, I stand up and grab my empty plate, needing to get away before anyone notices the way I’m watching Easton. “I’m going to start on the dishes.”
“Okay, honey. Good idea.” My mother smiles and hands me her plate when I reach out for it. “Tell Hope to join us next time. It’s been months since she’s come for dinner.”
“I’ll make sure she comes next time. She’s just been busy working weird hours at the diner.”
“I’ll help with the dishes.” My stomach drops when Easton stands up and helps gather the dirty dishes.
“Easton, you’re a guest. I can handle the dishes.”
“It’s cool. I don’t mind.” He walks past me and disappears into the kitchen before I can stop him.
Exhaling, I follow seconds later to find him already in front of the sink, starting on the dishes. I set the rest of the dirty ones down and grab the towel he hands to me. “I don’t want to do this here, Easton.”
Wreck My World Page 13