Irreparably Broken (Irreparable 1)

I straighten my spine and square my shoulders, preparing to lie to my best friend. There is no way I’m confessing what is going on between me and her brother. “Seriously, Liv. He was just worried about me, so can you drop it, please?”

She tosses a Cheeto at me and leans back on the counter. “You’re a very bad liar, but I’ll drop it. You’ll tell me eventually. You always do.”

I shake my head, knowing she’s probably right. “Hey, how about we give each other mani-pedis and hang out all afternoon eating junk food and listening to music?” I do want to hang out with Liv, but the suggestion is my manipulative way of switching subjects in case she changes her mind about dropping it.

“You had me at mani-pedis, sista.” Liv pops another Cheeto into her mouth, crunching it loudly between her teeth. “I gotta take a shower first. You hunt down some nail polish, and I’ll be out in a bit.” She spins on her heels, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

As I tap my fingernails on the counter, my mind wanders back to my conversation in the garage with Brady. Do his parents really have secrets? The possibility eludes me. His parents are great. They hug and kiss constantly. Mr. Hunter smacks Mrs. Hunter on the ass all the time, which is gross, but sweet, too. By all appearances, they’re totally devoted to each other. Is that all it is, an appearance? When my mom had an affair years ago, I remember Mrs. Hunter telling my mom to be completely honest with my dad. It’s inexplicable to me that Mrs. Hunter has secrets when she offered that kind of advice to my mother.

Tug disrupts my thoughts. “You’re doing it again, nutty buddy.”

I jump and clutch the edge of the counter. “Shit, Tug. You scared the crap outta me.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You were being expressive again.” He makes air quotes when he says “expressive."

I roll my eyes and take another swig of water. Pouring a small amount in my hand, I spin and fling it at Tug. He’s a good sport and laughs about it. Or at least that’s what I think until he grabs the sprayer from the sink and showers me with it. I squeal and run until I’m out of range. He turns the water off and tosses me a dish towel. I dry off, vowing revenge.

When I notice he’s wearing board shorts, I assume he’s going with Brady to the beach. I laugh at the smiley faces on them – so Tug. “Are you going riding with Brady today?”

“Yep. You and Liv wanna come?” He launches a Cheeto in the air, and tries to catch it in his mouth, but it bounces off his nose.

I laugh. “No, Liv and I are hanging out here doing girly stuff. You know, painting fingernails and talking about boys.”

His tongue falls out of his mouth, and he holds his hands around his throat to simulate choking. “Sounds like a blast. I think I’d rather have a pitchfork shoved up my ass than stick around for that.”

“You weren’t invited anyway.” I stick my tongue out at him.

He swipes my water bottle, finishing it off. I don’t bother to object. It comes with the territory around Tug. “You know, I could skip the beach if you want to go out with me.” He’s goading me.

I play along. “I’d rather drink from a porta-potty than go with you, Tug.”

“God…you’re killin’ me, Tor.”

I poke him in the chest. “Oh, come on. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” That reminds me of a Kelly Clarkson song, so I decide to sing it, figuring if you can’t beat ’em, then you might as well join ’em.

I laugh when Tug adds the next verse and grabs my hand. Dancing around the kitchen floor, we’re both singing. He twirls me around once and then dips me, my hair mopping the tiles as I fall back.

“You know you two are in need of some serious psychological help, right?” Liv yells. She’s upside down. Wet hair falls down her back, and her skin is fresh-from-the-shower shiny.

Tug lifts me up, and I spin toward her. I smile, and stretch my hand out. “Aw, come on, Livvy. You know the words. Sing with us.”

She chuckles and takes my hand. We dance and sing for what seems like hours. We look ridiculous, but I’m having a blast. Tug plays air guitar, and Liv stands in a chair, holding out her hand and singing into it like a microphone. I’m singing through my laughter, enjoying myself immensely, when Brady’s words enter my thoughts.

You see what you want to see.

I love this family. I’m an only child, with two parents who worked so much when I was growing up that I would have been ignored my entire life if not for Liv and her family. Their parents are the parents I always wished mine would be. When my parents were home, they were always fighting. Not once have I heard either of Liv’s parents raise their voice with one another. This is the “three kids and white picket fence” family. Whatever Brady is enduring, I’m certain he’s using his family as an excuse. His family is wonderful. I want him to tell me why he’s hurting, but I remind myself it’s no

ne of my business. If Brady wants to tell me, he’ll do so when he’s ready.

After our jam session is over, we laugh until it hurts. Tug gathers some snacks from the pantry and goes out to the garage. Liv and I continue to laugh as we finish off the entire bag of Cheetos.

Brady

I’m in seriously big trouble, the boiling hot water kind. There’s absolutely no way I can be just friends with a girl when she reacts so instantaneously to my touch. When I saw her nipples harden, I wanted to thrust my hand up her shirt and roll them between my fingers. I’m a shameless pervert. Her face, eyes wide like a doe and cheeks red as wine when she realized I knew, was adorable. She straightened immediately and tried to cover them up with her arms. Thankfully, she was too preoccupied hiding her own arousal to notice mine tenting through my shorts.

I think about her body, her perfect body. The swell of her breasts, the half-moon curve between her ribcage. The top of her hip bone, which protrudes forward just enough, begging my hands to latch on. Goddammit! I have to have her. Especially when I think about the taste of her lips, or the deep-seated desire burning in her piercing blue eyes, beseeching me to take her body and own it, to brand her and make her mine.

Tug interrupts my thoughts when he bursts through the door into the garage, throwing his hands up in the air. “Tug has arrived. Let’s get to the beach and meet some ladies.”