Break the Rules (Loveless Brothers 3) - Page 71

“I hope it works out,” he says, too fast, like he has to push to get the words out. “Are you spending the night or going home?”

“I told my parents I was visting Gina in Richmond until tomorrow,” I say, naming my college roommate.

“Got it,” Levi says, and opens the truck’s passenger door for me. “We can Netflix and chill.”

I pull the door shut and he walks around the front, my eyes tracking his form in the low light of sunset and I think for the thousandth time how is every woman in this town not crawling all over him?

“Do you know what that means?” I ask when he gets into the driver’s seat.

Levi smiles as he turns the key and the engine protests for a moment before starting.

“Apparently not,” he says.

Tell him, I think. Just tell him now and get it over with. You’ll just feel worse the longer you don’t tell him.

“I’ll show you,” I offer, and he pulls out of the viewing area and back onto the Parkway.That night, we shower, and then we eat leftovers and then watch Netflix and chill and then we Netflix and chill and even afterwards, when we’re tangled together and he’s got his head on my chest and the moon is out and everything is so, so quiet, I don’t tell him.

I swallow my heavy guilt, and I hold him close, and I don’t say anything.The next day, I’m determined to tell him. I go back to my parents’ house first thing, and I tell them. My mom hugs me and my dad ruffles my hair and they both tell me they knew it was just a matter of time, and then they demand all the details so I tell them that it’s an editor position, that I’d be making $41,000 a year, that I’d be overseeing a section of the paper while also pursuing some of my own stories, and with every word out of my mouth it sounds better and better.

It’s a pretty good job. It is. There are very, very few really good jobs in print journalism these days, and they’re all for people with twenty years’ more experience than me, but I can settle for pretty good if it’ll get me really good someday.

Right? I can, right?

I book my flights: Roanoke to Salt Plains, and I book a room at the Bluff City Motel 6. I print everything out and put it into a folder so that I’ve got it all ready, even though I don’t leave for almost a week.

Silas calls me when I’m at the grocery store, buying eggplants and basil so I can make stir-fry for Levi before I tell him. More accurately, I’m holding an eggplant and then looking from it to my phone, trying to figure out why it doesn’t look anything like the picture. Are there multiple varieties of eggplant?

“Heard you finally got an interview,” he says, already ribbing me. “Nice job. Guess I don’t have to take you out for pity dinners anymore.”

I put the eggplant into my basket and make a face at the rest of the produce.

“You can still take me out for dinner,” I say. “It’s not a done deal, and I’m barely even qualified for the job, they’re probably only interviewing me to round out the candidates or something—”

“Stop it,” he says, his voice suddenly quieter. “They’re interviewing you because you’re smart, hardworking, and you’d be great at the job.”

I pick up some basil and frown.

“Did you get hit on the head?”

“What?”

“You’re being nice to me,” I say.

I can practically hear him roll his eyes.

“I bought you dinner last week because you didn’t have a job,” he points out. “I’m nice to you all the time, Bug.”

And I’m sleeping with your best friend.

“Fine, you’re nice,” I tease. “Thanks. It seems like it’s a good job.”

“You need a ride to the airport?” he asks, out of the blue.

I narrow my eyes at the basil.

“I’m not gonna say no,” I warn him. “But I’m flying out of Roanoke at nine-fifteen, so I need to be to the airport at seven, so we’ve gotta leave out of here at—”

“The ass-crack of dawn, yes,” he finishes the sentence for me, though not quite the way I would have. “And despite that, I’m offering you a ride.”

“Okay,” I say instantly.

“Cool,” he says. “Are you coming to Fall Fest on Saturday at the brewery?”

“If I don’t get a better offer.”

Silas just laughs.

“Not in Sprucevale you won’t,” he says. “Drinking a beer while watching a bunch of kids in a pumpkin-shaped bouncy house is about the best entertainment you’re likely to find, Bug. See you Saturday.”

“Silas,” I say, and then I stop short.

I know why he’s calling me and offering me a ride. He’s worried. He’s told me as much: I’ve been acting weird, and he’s a little worried about me, so he’s trying to give me some quality Big Brother time.

Tags: Roxie Noir Loveless Brothers Romance
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