I hadn’t wanted anything to do with her. I had enough drama of my own that I didn’t need to add her drama to it.
Yet, I’d agreed mostly because I wasn’t an asshole.
Jacob was my neighbor. He was also a good person to have around since he knew everyone and anyone that was within a fifty-mile radius of our hometown of Kilgore, Texas.
I’d been pissed as hell that she was late—I hadn’t realized at the time that Codie had never driven a trailer before, or I would’ve offered to do that, too—and instead of waiting for her like I’d promised Jacob I’d do, I’d left knowing she’d have to ask someone in the barn to find me.
What I hadn’t expected was for her to come searching for me herself, or for her to be so goddamn beautiful.
She wasn’t anything like what everyone made her out to be, either.
I’d heard horror stories, of course.
Unruly, uncaring, and uninterested in right or wrong.
She wouldn’t go out of her way to piss on you if you were on fire—friend or not.
But, what I got when I looked into her eyes wasn’t some pissed off person, but a young woman who was so beautiful it took my breath away.
From the moment that I’d met her, I’d been so attracted to her that it was hard to function when she was around.
When I had her in front of me last night, leaning against my chest, I could tell you with utmost certainty that I wanted a chance with her.
I didn’t care about what reputation she had, nor did I care about whatever preconceived hang-ups she had that were keeping her from saying yes to a date with me.
I’d get her to say yes. By the end of the week, she’d be sitting in the front seat of my truck on the way to The Back Porch, and I’d show her off to everyone in the damn bar.
But first, I had to convince her, which was what I was doing today. After I worked out… which happened to be what I was on my way to do.
Callum was in my front seat, and he kept looking over at me every three seconds gauging my mood.
“Okay,” he burst out. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I glanced over at him with a brow raised. “What do you mean?”
“You’re listening to the radio,” he said accusingly.
I tilted my head to the side and cracked my neck, then followed it up with the other side.
“I don’t see what’s wrong with that,” I admitted.
“You didn’t used to have a radio,” he murmured.
Okay, so Codie had mentioned how she liked to listen to the radio.
This morning, remembering I had an old one in the barn that I’d been given in high school, and assuming it likely still worked, I went out there and opened it. Then I’d installed it.
Now, I was listening to the goddamn radio.
So sue me.
“I am,” I said. “And I put it in today. What’s it to you?”
“What’s it to me?” he asked. “Well,” he started, “it’s just not like you. It feels like there’s something wrong, and either you’re about to die because you have a brain tumor affecting your temporal lobe, which then affects how you act, or you’ve been abducted by aliens and you’re not my real brother.”
“That temporal lobe shit real?” I asked.
“No, I pulled it out of my ass,” he admitted. “It just sounded good. Though, saying that, it might very well be right. I watched a movie about it the other day, and I’m just remembering what the fake doctor said. I think. Why are you changing the subject?”
I turned my blinker on and then said, “Do you remember Codie from back when you were in high school?”
Callum and Codie were about the same age, though without actually asking Codie her exact age, I could only speculate.
“Not really, no,” he admitted. “I remember her being in trouble in school. I also remember hearing that she went to an alternative school by a couple of friends that I met back up with a few weeks ago for drinks. The only reason that even came up was because they heard that she was back in town helping out her grandfather. Nobody really thought all that highly of her, but to be honest, I think she’s a good kid.”
“She’s older than you.” I laughed. “So not a kid.”
He shrugged. “Whatever. So why are you asking me about her?”
“I asked her out, and she flat out told me no because I was who I am, and she’s who she is.” I thought about saying what I said next and then decided to hell with it. “She called herself a piece of trash.”
Callum looked like he was trying not to puke once I finished.
“She does realize that we’re not that great of a family, correct?” he asked. “I mean, look at who our dad was. Look at what he did. And she thinks she’s a piece of trash when our father is the one who royally screwed our lives up so bad that we won’t ever be normal again?”