Swing (Landry Family 2)

“I know business, Lincoln. And I know you bring in millions of dollars with your talent, your looks, and because litt

le kids buy your jerseys in the Pro Shop. They aren’t letting you go as long as you’re making them bank. Business 101, little brother.”

Smirking, I say, “My looks do sell a lot of tickets, huh?”

“Shut up,” he laughs.

Even though he offered me no assurances and said nothing that I didn’t know ten minutes ago, my stomach settles just a bit and that fucking bubble scabs over for the meantime.

“I’ll tell you what I want to plan for,” I breathe.

“Oh, I can’t wait to hear this.”

“I met this girl today.”

“And that’s different from any other day how?” he jokes.

“Dude,” I say, hopping up on the counter and getting comfortable. “You should see her.”

“Let me guess: big tits. Great ass. At least one nipple pierced, probably the right one, if I’m guessing.”

“Fuck off.”

“So it was the left one?”

The kitchen is filled with my laughter. “No, asshole. I haven’t even seen them. Yet.”

He whistles through his teeth. “Okay. Color me intrigued. How did you manage to remember a girl that hasn’t bared her chest for you?”

“She’s . . .” I think back to her sexy smile, her confident retorts to what I said. Her coolness about whether she sees me again, not offering her name up first. “She’s different.”

“So maybe both are pierced?”

“You’re an asshole.”

He chuckles, the sound giving way to a yawn. “I do think this injury thing has started to affect your head. Better watch that, little brother.”

It’s a joke, but one that hits a little too close to home. “I’ll let you go. I’m sure you need to get back to whatever the fuck it is you do, and I need to get my beauty sleep,” I yawn, stretching my good arm overhead.

“Yeah. I’m going to go work so your inheritance grows while you sleep. You’re welcome.”

“Go make us some money.”

“Night.”

I end the call and drop my phone on the couch, heading down the hallway, past two rooms that sit completely empty, and into my bedroom.

“I’m gonna be fine,” I mutter, climbing back into bed and pulling the grey sheets over me. “It’s all gonna be fine.”

Danielle

THE BELLS RING AS I push open the door of the Smitten Kitten. Scents of freshly baked bread, cinnamon, and hints of mint greet me in a fashion equivalent to a puppy licking your face. It’s warm and welcoming, and some of the day’s stress melts away.

“Hey,” Pepper chirps from behind the counter. “Your usual?”

“Please.” I settle into my spot, a little booth tucked in the corner. The bench seat against the wall is lined with with pink and white pillows to nestle against. A light fixture dripping with fake crystals hangs just above the table.

Tossing my bag on the bench, I shrug off my yellow pea coat and collapse into the seat.