Not usually.

“Having it at your place should be fun. We haven’t had one there in a while,” Carter said.

“Yeah, Everett should be down there now pulling wood aside,” I said. “If I had to bet, Brett is already down there with him.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Carter said. “Oh, don’t forget chips. The girls mentioned something about sandwiches, but we need chips.”

“Sandwiches like peanut butter or sandwiches like from Dina’s?”

“How did I know you’d ask?” Carter laughed. “I believe the girls are hitting up Dina’s now. Lauren said something about maybe inviting Rebecca to come if she isn’t working the evening shift.”

“That’d be cool,” I said nonchalantly.

I didn’t want to mention it, but bringing Rebecca was a big plus for this whole bonfire idea. She was young, but she was extremely cute, and in the limited experience I had with her, she had been fun to be around.

“Ah, man,” Carter said, stopping suddenly.

“What?” I asked.

“I left my damn wallet in the truck. Hang on, I’ll go get it.”

“No, don’t,” I said, stopping him. “I got it. No worries.”

“You’re already hosting,” Carter said. “I can’t let you pay for the booze too.”

“Pay me back. Have Lauren get me a few extra sandwiches to stuff in the fridge for the weekend.”

Carter laughed and shook his head.

“Fine,” he said. “But I’ll keep track of every penny until you’re paid back. Hosts shouldn’t have to pay for the food.”

“You don’t have to pay me back,” I said.

Carter huffed a small laugh but then went quiet. We both knew what I meant by that. It was about way more than beer and bonfires.

At any rate, I had the money. What the hell else was I going to use it on? The business was well funded by Everett, and Carter and I had put our investment money in too. I was even getting a check from the business every other week that I was just depositing into a bank account, with a balance that I didn’t keep track of. It didn’t matter.

It had been a deal I struck with my mother before I joined the Army. Something that I swore to her I would keep up and would use if I ever needed it. My grandparents had left me a large sum of money as an inheritance. My mother received enough that she never had to leave her three-block radius back home, which was exactly how she liked it. But for me, it was a bank account that was supposed to be so I could live in opulence wherever I wanted.

Most people would have bought an island or some huge villa somewhere to drink cocktails on the beach. But I’d had my fill of sand. I liked the challenge of the mountains and nature. It was the best thing about Carter suggesting the company. Moving to the mountains of Tennessee, far away from where my family name meant anything.

But the bank account followed me. It was a shadow of privilege that I resented and at the same time resented myself for resenting it. So many people would do anything for the zeros in my account, but I used very little of them. I promised my mother I would keep a certain amount until I was retired for good. Until then, I used almost all of what I could to donate to charity.

But the business holdings and stock purchases my grandfather made were now in my name, and the bank account grew without me doing anything. It left me with more money than I could spend and still maintain my promises. So, paying the measly bill for a bonfire was nothing. Just more digital dollars coming out of an account that I didn’t know the true size of.

The bank account had always been there, as far back as I could remember. Before my grandparents died, they had a trust set up for me. I had my own checking account while I was still in superhero underwear. And back when I was in private schools, I used it to buy candy for myself and gifts for my teachers at Christmas.

Friends weren’t something I really had. Even at a young age, we were segregated by name and status. It wasn’t friends at the playground. They were miniature colleagues.

I detested that life. I detested people my age, still unable to vote, bragging about their father’s security clearance and how much sway they had “inside the beltway.” I just wanted to be a real person.

So, when I joined the Army, I shed all the self-aggrandizing bullshit I grew up with. I became another meat bag. A leatherneck grunt with a patch that had a famous name. Nothing more. Nothing less. I was my own man.

The Army had provided me with real friends for the first time in my life. People who knew me as a human being first, a friend and a brother in arms. It was gratifying that now one of them was happy and settled and enjoying the life that perhaps none of us thought we could have.

Tags: Natasha L. Black Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net