Mr. Wrong Number(58)

There he was.

“Hey.” His face showed nothing, all business as if I were at his door selling vacuum cleaners. He looked impatient, like he wanted me to hurry.

And so detached that it hurt to breathe.

“Can I talk to you for a second?”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Your brother—”

I grabbed the front of his hoodie and dragged him out into the hallway. “I just need a second. Please?”

He pulled the door closed behind him and I felt something skip through my middle as his Adam’s apple bobbed around a swallow. I let go of his shirt but my hand immediately missed the solid breadth of his chest.

I raised my eyes from his throat and said, “Did you get my texts?”

His jaw flexed. “My phone’s charging in the office. What’s up?”

I swallowed. It was harder to say in person. “Listen, Colin. About the other day—”

“Forget it.” His jaw clenched again and he said, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. I was wrong—”

“Forget it, Liv. We’ve covered that it was a mistake and—”

“Quit interrupting. I’m not talking about the sex, okay?”

Cue my brother, opening the door and looking back and forth between the two of us. “What’re you guys doing out here?”

Colin said, “Nothing,” as I said, “Talking.”

But God—had Jack heard me yelling about sex?

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. “Lemme guess. Livvie wants to move back in with us now that she’s jobless.”

“Screw you.” I was relieved he hadn’t heard, but his blasé attitude about my life pissed me off. I rolled my eyes and pleaded with emotionless Colin, “Please just read my texts.”





Colin


I watched her walk away, feeling gut punched. What had that been about?

“Dude, why don’t you stop looking at my sister’s ass?” Jack was giving me a weird look that I wasn’t in the mood for.

“Yeah. Okay.” I went back inside and he followed.

“What the hell would Livvie be texting you about?”

I feigned ignorance. “Who knows?”

“No, seriously. It makes no sense that Olivia would text you.”

I ignored him, went into the office, and unplugged my old phone from the charger. “Dunno.”

“Well, why don’t you check?” He stood in the doorway, scowling at me. “Then you’ll know, dipshit.”

I let my arm fall to my side. “I’m good, but thanks.”

“What the fuck?” He took a step into the office and said, “I’m good? The right answer is ‘I have no fucking idea why your little sister would ever be texting me. I better check because that’s weird.’ That would be a solid response.”

I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know what the fuck to even say.

“Is something going on with you two?”

I breathed in through my nose and apparently took too long to answer because Jack’s mouth dropped open. “My sister—are you kidding me?”

“Listen, Jack—”

“No, you listen.” He grabbed the phone from my hand—that was the fastest I’d ever seen the guy move—and looked down at the messages, holding out a stiff arm to keep me back. I wanted to tackle him and take back the phone, but I was screwed at this point.

Regardless of whatever Liv had just texted, it was all in his face. Jack knew.

His eyes moved over the screen before he said, “Gah!”

He dropped the phone like it’d burned him.

“Sex Night? What the fuck is that? Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Olivia.” He glared at me for a solid second before charging forward and pushing me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

He pushed me again, his face red as he spit out, “My sister?”

And then it was on. He pushed me again, then rushed forward and totally put his shoulder into it and laid me out. We both hit the wall before landing on the ground—fuck, my head—and he was muttering a whole lot of fuckery (disgusting son of a bitch taking advantage of Liv) as he tried to pin me down so he could hit me.

“Knock it off, Jack.” I grunted and got my legs under me, flipping so he wasn’t on top of me anymore, pinning him just to keep his fucking flailing limbs from knocking me the hell out.

“Will you fucking relax?” I hollered the words as I tried keeping him down, but he had a good fifty pounds on me. His knee connected with my gut, and I groaned and rolled over onto my back, giving him the total perfect angle to beat the shit out of me.

He glared down at me and pulled back his fist, and I just waited for him to hit me. Maybe the physical pain would relieve some of the guilt that’d been eating away at me since the night I’d kissed her. I braced myself, but instead of feeling his knuckles on my eye, Jack lowered his arm and panted, “What the hell, Beck?”

I shook my head. “I know, man.”

“You really aren’t going to fight back?” Jack looked both disappointed and disgusted as he waited for my answer, like he’d been looking forward to a fight. “You’re seriously going to let me hit you?”