Somethin' About That Boy

“Wow,” Ashe said, walking to the couch I was sitting on and plopping down onto it. “You work fast.”

She absently rubbed her belly, and I couldn’t stop myself from reaching over and placing my hand on her belly to feel.

The baby kicked me the moment it felt the pressure of my hand, causing me to grin.

“I actually didn’t do the asking this time,” I admitted, pressing in slightly. “The girl did the asking.”

Ford snorted, causing me to look up from my contemplation of Ashe’s stomach.

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he muttered. “But why the hell doesn’t it surprise me that you’ve literally already got a girl and you’ve been in school a single fucking day? I told you that you’d fit in just fine here.”

I shrugged.

Deep down inside, I was still that awkward teenager that thought everyone hated him.

Last summer, I’d gone from that awkward pimply-faced teen to a new, more proportioned person.

I’d gone from being the smallest, scrawniest kid in my CrossFit gym to the guy that could outpace every single fucking person.

Which was another thing I hated.

I missed my old CrossFit gym.

The new ones that I had visited didn’t seem to have the same atmosphere that my old one did.

Anyway, I’d gone from that weird awkward kid to the guy that every girl wanted.

It was honestly still surprising to me that I got the kind of attention that I did.

It also didn’t help that in between last year when I shot up to my present height of six-foot-three and now, I’d had to do a lot of growing up. I’d also gotten in about eight fights, all of them having something or other to do with fucking Vance. My temper had frayed, and honestly, I’d turned into an asshole after having to deal with all the bullshit that Vance sent my way.

Needless to say, I wasn’t the same person as I was two years ago.

The baby kicked my hand, this time hard, and I looked back at where I was pressing.

“That doesn’t hurt?” I asked curiously.

She shook her head. “Just feels weird. I think that was his head.”

I grinned and pressed harder, only to be gifted with another head butt.

“I feel like I should be there and not you,” Ford said, grabbing me by the scruff of the neck and pulling me.

I wrapped my arms tight around Ashe, causing her to laugh.

“Save me!” I whined.

Ford pulled harder, which only caused Ashe to come with me.

By the time I’d finally let go, Ashe was laughing her ass off, Ford was cursing me, and I was ten paces away.

“So, about the truck…”

Ashe picked up the keys I’d dropped at some point and tossed them.

Ford tried to catch them but they sailed about an inch over his head and right into my hands.

“Thanks, honey,” I drawled.

Ford threw a sofa pillow at my face.

“Fuck off,” he growled.

I caught it and tossed it back at him, barely missing nailing him in the face.

“Hey, did you see the groceries I put in your fridge?” Ashe asked.

I nodded. “I did. Thank you. I meant to tell you that I was fully capable of doing it myself, but then I decided that it was really awesome to have a fridge fairy. I can do my own laundry, though.”

Ashe shook her head. “That wasn’t me. That was your sister. She also washed your sheets, too.”

I sighed.

“I think I might need to take the key away from y’all,” I admitted. “I was really thinking that this living alone business would be pretty cool. But not if my sister comes in any time she wants.”

Ashe snickered. “Sorry, buddy. But you can’t have it both ways. Either we care, or we don’t. And, just sayin’, but you won’t get either one of us not caring.”

I sighed and looked at my brother who was sitting snugly against his wife.

“Hey, do you want to go to the shooting range with me tomorrow?” I asked.

He rolled his eyes.

“More like, will I take you to the shooting range?” he countered.

I shrugged. “The school has a shooting team. And I have to have one more blow off class for this year, so I thought I’d try out. Football will be over in November so I figured I could take the last 6 weeks getting better at target practice.”

Ford shrugged. “They also have a bass fishing team.”

I grimaced. “Bass fishing is boring.”

“And catfishing is any better?” he asked.

I shrugged. “At least then I can read a book or something. Bass fishing is a whole lot of casting and a whole lot of not catching shit.”

My phone vibrated, reminding me I had to leave.

“I gotta go,” I said as I reached for the door. “I’ll try not to get it too dirty.”

The pillow that hit my head as I walked out of their house had me chuckling.

Closing the door behind me, I ran through the rain out to my brother’s truck, not stopping until I got to the door and slithered inside at a near slide.