Craving Kara (The Aces' Sons 7) - Page 23

“It’s smoky!”

“You’re an old lady.”

“Okay, that, too,” I conceded.

“And you need to start taking better care of yourself,” she harrumphed. “It was a whole thing while Draco was gone—but he’s home now. There’s no more need for the fuckin’ hair shirt. Go back to school. Eat. Have fun.”

“That’s not even—” I sputtered, unsure how to even reply.

“It is,” Charlie said, cutting me off. “He was in limbo, so you were in limbo. But he’s not now, Kara. So move the fuck on.”

“In a minute, I’m going to drop your ass on the side of the road and let you walk,” I snapped. “Fuck you.”

“You know I’m right,” Charlie said, pointing at me. Oh, man, that irritated the shit out of me. She hated when people pointed at her, so I knew she was doing it just to be an asshole.

“I know that you have no fucking clue what you’re talking about,” I spat. “Stop trying to analyze me.”

“I don’t have to analyze you,” she said, her voice a little lower as she leaned back in her seat. “Everyone can see it—not just me.”

“Well, all of you can mind your own fucking business,” I replied. “I didn’t start school yet because I needed a goddamn break.” Charlie made a noise of disbelief in her throat that I chose to ignore. “And my body changed because I got older, not because I’m starving myself or some shit.”

“No one said you’re starving yourself,” Charlie replied instantly. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that’s what it sounded like.”

“I just meant that you don’t take care of yourself like you should,” Charlie said, throwing her hands up in the air. “You don’t. And also, I’d just like to point out that losing baby fat after high school is normal, not losing the glorious tits and ass God gave you.”

“I still have tits and ass,” I said distractedly as we came up on a makeshift roadblock.

“Just drive through the gap in the middle,” Charlie said, leaning forward to stare through the windshield. “If we don’t fit, I’ll get out and move the signs.”

I nodded as I threaded my car through the narrow opening.

“Fuck,” Charlie said with a sigh, glancing behind us as we continued toward her parents’ house. “Shit’s getting real. That wasn’t there when we left earlier.”

“We’re driving toward a fucking wildfire,” I replied, turning my headlights on. They didn’t do anything except illuminate the haze, so I turned them off again. “That’s about as real as it gets.”

We were quiet for the rest of the drive, both of us leaning forward, as if it would help us see through the haze of smoke. It wasn’t so thick that it was impossible to see, more like a really foggy morning.

“God,” I said as I turned on my blinker. “If I hadn’t been here two million times, I wouldn’t have even known where to turn. You can’t even see the mailbox.”

“I know,” Charlie said. “Fuck, Kara.” She turned to me. “How the fuck are we supposed to even know if the fire is close?”

“I’m sure we’ll see it,” I lied.

We crept up the road until I could see the back of Rose’s SUV and Grandpa Grease’s big pickup. Parking behind them, I braced for the inevitable what-do-you-think-you’re-doing-here conversation.

“I’m going to change my pants real quick,” I told Charlie, pushing my seat back. I slipped off my shoes. “Keep an eye out, would ya? I don’t want to scar my dad.”

“You’re not wearing underwear?” Charlie asked with a mocking gasp.

“Yes, I’m wearing underwear,” I shot back, pulling off my shorts. “But that’s bad enough! He’d have a heart attack.”

“We’re all good,” Charlie replied as I reached for my jeans and awkwardly put my feet in them. “The only person I see is Draco.”

“What?” My head shot up as I struggled to yank my jeans up my legs.

“Oh, he looks pissed,” Charlie said conversationally as I jerked my jeans over my hips. “I’ll let you deal with that.”

Without another word, she was out of the car and jogging in the opposite direction of Draco—and I was stuck in the car trying to get my shoes on.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Draco asked as he yanked my door open. “Crank your car and drive your ass back to Callie’s.”

“I hesitate to say this for obvious reasons, but—” I shrugged as I got out of the car. I was really trying to ignore the way the black bandana covering the bottom half of his face made his eyes seem even more striking than they usually were. “You’re not the boss of me.”

“You just got done tellin’ me that comin’ out here was stupid and now you’re here?”

“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind,” I replied airily. I refused to give him any indication of my real reaction—the way my toes curled at his tone or the way my heart raced at the thought of arguing with him.

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