“It’s a freaking double date,” I add, hearing the dread that accompanies my words.
“Whoa! It’s about time! Good God, I thought you guys were never gonna stop all this pretending crap and –”
“Jessie isn’t my date, Penn,” I interrupt before he can get too carried away.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re going on a double date... with Jessie... and you both are going to be on dates with different people?”
“Yeah. That’s kind of how double dates work. Two plus two. You know, Murphy’s got some really cool number puzzles in his room. You should go practice. You might learn something.” I smile widely at Penn.
“Hey! You leave my kid outta this,” he fires back. Murphy is three and technically Penn’s live-in girlfriend’s kid, but DNA doesn’t matter. Penn claimed the adorable little guy as his own practically from day one.
Penn and Valerie one hundred percent believe in soulmates. Given what they went through to be together, I can’t argue with that one, but I still can’t help thinking of Pierce and Sarah... how happy they’d been... and the way that had all ended.
I’m not completely sure that Penn would make it at all if he ever lost Val. He’s soft, my little brother - in all of the best ways, of course, but this world is brutal. It chews dreamers like Penn up and spits them out before they even know what hit them.
The last thing I want is to see Penn go through what Pierce and my father had to endure.
I have no control over that, though, so I’d done the only thing I could do, I accepted Valerie and Murphy into the family whole-heartedly and I keep an extra-protective eye out for both of them every day.
I can’t change the ultimate end... the one that comes for all of us, but I can protect Penn by protecting what he holds dear. At least for now.
“Earth to Payden, Earth to Payden! Anyone home?” Penn waves his hand in front of my face.
I’d completely spaced off. That has been a problem all summer long.
“Yeah? What? I gotta get going. What?” I walk past him again and head down my main hall at a quick pace.
“Slow down there, cowboy!” Penn jogs after me to catch up. “Just tell me how in the hell you’re okay with watching Jessie out on a date with some dude? Actually, no. I know you’re not okay with that. Tell me how you’re going to hold yourself together when it’s happening right in front of your face.”
I stop walking and turn back to face him then. “Why are you so hellbent on insisting that I have a thing for Jessie?”
Penn rolls his eyes. “Because I’ve known you for twenty-four years, and I’ve known Jessie for twenty-two years, and I’m not blind. Or deaf. Or an idiot.” He stares at me and waits for some type of defense.
Of course, I don’t have one.
Every ounce of energy I can muster right now is going into building up enough self-control to not kill Brandt in the first five minutes of meeting the stupid bastard. I really don’t have any energy left over for Penn.
“I’d love to stay and chat about this, Penn, but I’ve got to get going.” Not much of a denial, but a legitimate excuse.
“Yep. Run along, Pay. All the runnin’ in the world isn’t gonna make you and Jessie being a thing not true!” He calls after me, laughing yet again.
“Yeah! Okay! Whatever! Get outta my wing!”
I usually drive my truck everywhere. It’s not quite as beat up as Penn’s, but it is definitely not new. This evening, however, calls for a little flash. I decide to take my fully restored, blue Chevy Corvette.
Let Brandt suck on that for a while.
Of course, the smug attitude I’d climbed into the car with has nearly worn off entirely by the time I get to Jessie’s house. I drive up her driveway certain that I look like the world’s biggest douche.
Here comes the rich college dropout in his pristinely restored shiny car.
Yep. Giant douche.
No one is outside when I pull up, I’d made the seven o’clock arrival time by a couple of extra minutes and apparently, they are inside having a great pre-date warm up.
I nearly growl.
Oookay, Pay. Calm down. You’ve got a few hours of hell to live through. Then you can lose your shit.
Of course, the closest I ever come to losing my shit is possibly stomping a little while I tend to the horses. I’m not much of a tantrum kind of guy.
Jessie’s mom answers the door when I ring the bell. Annette. Good ol’ Annette.
“Payden. So good to see you again. The kids are in the kitchen.” She smiles at me sweetly, but I sense the strain in her tone.
Annette had loved me, adored me, up until I became “a man”, she’d treated me like a son before that. But something about Jessie and I turning eighteen had shaken her, and the last seven or so years she’d been polite. At best.
“Hey, Mrs. Timms. Thanks. I’ll head right in.” There was a time when this would have been followed by a giant bear hug.
That time had passed.
It’s ludicrous anyway, when I really think about it. “Kids.” Mid-twenties aren’t exactly kid territory. There are people who have full blown families by the time they hit twenty-five.
I hear Jessie’s high-pitched giggling echoing down the hallway and pause. I love that sound. And I’m about to walk into a situation where I have to, at the very least, pretend I only like that sound.
Suddenly I realize that I might not be able to pull this evening off after all. I can be nice to people, sure. Even Brandt, if I have to be. But how do I act indifferent to everything Jessie says or does?
“Payden! Yay! Everyone’s here!” Jessie sees me before I see her and she rushes into the hall, her tipsiness blatantly obvious, and throws her arms around me.
My God, she smells heavenly, and when she pulls away, I see that she looks out of this world as well.
Her thick blonde hair is down and curled. I love when her hair is down. Her dress is nearly the same color as her skin... like a golden, sun-kissed peach... but sparkling. Her skirt stops entirely too high above her knee, showing off those soft, naked thighs.
She looks like a fucking flute of champagne.
Her makeup was equally done up and sparkly. Of course, I’ve seen Jessie dressed up tons of times. She is always my “date” for the stupid events Dad forces all of us to attend, but tonight it is different. Tonight I feel as though she dressed up just for –
“Hey buddy! You must be this Payden guy I’ve heard so much about! Nice to meet ya! I’m Brandt Holloway!” An eager hand grabs mine and shakes it incredibly hard.
Brandt Holloway looks about as dick-waddish as I’d pictured him. Yellow blond hair slicked up into some ridiculous doo-wop-doo-bop hairstyle and big green eyes that are way too focused on Jessie’s cleavage. He’s wearing an actual suit jacket over his jeans, and with Converse All-Stars. He is only one fedora, a pair of fake geek glasses, and a scraggly beard away from being the actual dictionary definition of a hipster wannabe.
“Yep. I’m Payden. Nice to meet ya,” I lie. Brandt is taller than me, but not by much, and I’m much broader than him. That doesn’t technically matter, as I’m not planning on fighting the dude, or anyone else for that matter, but it’s nice to know that if necessary, I can more than likely beat the crap out of him.