“And, babe,” Elijah stage whispered. “You want to show me your pinky, perky and twerky again, I’ll get them to give you a raise.”
A dark blush stained her cheeks as she busied herself opening bottles and dealing with orders, but no one missed the “Wanker!” she hissed under her breath.
“That’s cool. I can always send it to you to watch on repeat,” Tate told him as he moved behind the bar with Lily to help us.
Glaring at my sister-in-law, I ignored her when she mouthed, sorry.
“You can go off people, you know,” Sadie muttered as she stomped past Tate, making a humph noise when Lily mouthed an apology to her, too.
“Never going to happen,” Tate told her confidently. “It’s impossible to dislike a Townsend.”
Ehh, he was wrong about that. I was pretty confident with all of the hospital visits we’d had over the years because of other people, there was probably a support group or twelve-step help group for people who hated my family.
And then the one man who could make my mood plummet that bit further murmured in my ear, “I don’t dislike the Townsends. In fact, I like them very much. Especially this one.”
Just what I needed—Parker.
Why did the world hate me so much? Why? I paid my taxes, I donated to charities, I brushed my teeth and cleaned under my toenails. I even helped old ladies who’d been mean to me across the street.
Glancing up, I saw Elijah watching me with a grin on his face and Gramps standing beside him, looking from me to Parker like he’d just figured out the meaning of pi.
Big shit, fuck, balls, twats, and exploding tits! Hopefully not my own.
“I especially enjoyed the part where you and Beau discussed mine and Rich’s dicks,” he added. “Your brother, however, didn’t. And thankfully, they won’t be showing that.”
Oh. Fucking. Shit.
Glancing at Tate, I noticed the coolness when he looked at Parker now, something I’d missed when they’d first come in.
Then a slightly satisfying thought occurred to me. “Did he hit you?”
I didn’t want him in pain per se, but I’d be lying if the thought of the big twat getting punched for being a big twat didn’t appeal to me somewhat.
“Nope.”
Disappointment in my brother followed it, and I made sure to give him the middle finger the next time he looked at me, getting a confused frown back.
Hearing Parker chuckle, I sighed and glanced over at him. I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it was good—more than good—to see him laugh and smile genuinely. When I was a kid, I hadn’t seen him do it that often. It was more like he was going through the motions of laughing and enjoying things. But why did it have to be about something so damn embarrassing?
“Can I give you a ride home?” he asked softly, bracing like he was expecting me to flip my shit at him.
This wasn’t a Parker I was used to. I knew the confident and almost rigid Parker, not one who showed even a hint of weakness.
And I was an idiot because it made me soften. “Okay.”FourParkerI’d called Linda Townsend before coming to Rebels today to touch base with her. I was close to the whole family, but Linda was someone truly special to me. Wanting to finally open up to her, I’d told her about where I was mentally and emotionally, the amount of therapy I’d had, and the life changes I was making. I’d also told her about the steps I was taking for Ari, and she’d advised me to talk to her and drop my walls so that she’d do the same. Apparently, relationships were like plants, they don’t blossom when they’re kept in the shade.
Did I expect Ari to just open up to me? No. Doing that and making yourself that vulnerable to someone doesn’t just happen. I hadn’t earned her trust yet, but she’d earned mine, so I wanted to at least try to explain it all to her.
And now was the time.
Spending time with the family was never a hardship—regardless of how crazy they were—so I hung out with them while I waited, laughing and commiserating when Hurst spoke about his friend who’d just died. I knew Maude, and I wasn’t at all surprised she’d made the choices she had. It wasn’t uncommon for people to hide their illnesses for as long as they could. Some went into shock and couldn’t say the words initially, and some didn’t want their families to suffer with them. Others just wanted to forget that it was happening. I didn’t begrudge anyone their choices unless it was something illegal or immoral. Unfortunately, when the families found out, they usually felt hurt because they hadn’t been told, which was difficult to navigate.
It made me think about the fact that I could have carried my own secret to the grave—it’s what I’d intended to do—but I wanted to tell her, so she didn’t think it was her I’d had an issue with that morning. I was the problem.