What I Need

He grips the back of his neck, looking exasperated.

“I love her,” I tell him, watching his brows tick. “I’m in love with her, man. I’m not playing around.”

Reed drops his arm and blinks through a jerk of his head. He wasn’t expecting me to say that. I watch his chest rise with a breath. “Well, shit,” he mumbles. “It’s like that? You’re that deep?”

“I’m fucking buried.”

“And she really thought I would hate you if I found out?”

“Yeah.”

Reed thinks for a second. “If you hurt her, I will. I’ll do worse than that,” he informs me.

My mouth ticks. “Threatening a cop, Reed? Are you sure you wanna go there?”

“Fuck you. I’m threatening a good friend of mine,” he counters, wearing a smirk and standing taller. “I don’t give a damn that you’re a cop, CJ. This is my sister. I will beat your ass if you make her cry.” He looks me over, lingering on my biceps. “Or at least throw shit at you from a distance,” he mumbles.

A laugh crackles inside my chest. I lift my chin in appreciation. “So, you’re good with this then? With us being together? It doesn’t bother you?”

“You really love her?”

I smile. Just thinking about Riley, thinking about how I’ll answer this question makes my blood run warmer. I’ve never felt that shit. Not until her.

“Yeah, man. I do,” I answer. “This is it. She’s it for me.”

It—I’m asking permission to date Reed’s sister, but we both know, I’m talking about down the road and where I know this is headed.

The girl who can’t handle tequila and who looks sexiest in hoodies three sizes too big for her. She’s mine. There will never be anyone else.

Reed studies my seriousness, taking a second to do that. Then he nods his head, stepping forward and holding out his hand to me. “All right, Tully,” he says.

All right. Simple as that.

Why . . . the . . . fuck didn’t I do this sooner?

I shake his hand, laughing when he grips on tighter. I get it. I’d do the same thing.

“Right.” We separate, and I roll my neck from side to side. “You get one punch. That’s it.”

His brow furrows in confusion. “Say what?”

“Look, I get it. If my friend was keeping shit like this from me, I’d want to hit him. Even if I accepted it, I’d still want to hit him. I’m sure you’re feeling that.”

“You’re going to let me punch you?”

“Yep.”

“And . . . you’re not going to hit me back? I get a free shot?”

“As long as you don’t go fucking nuts, yeah. But if you start wailing on me, Reed, I will drop your ass.”

Reed thinks this over. He takes all of a second. “All right. Cool,” he says, shrugging. He steps closer and rolls his right shoulder, loosening up his arm. “You ready? I have hit someone before, you know. I laid out that guy Beth used to live with.”

“Good for you. Want a medal?”

Really, I don’t mean that. I’m just moving this shit along. I got more important things to get to.

Reed narrows his eyes. My plan works.

He cocks his arm back and lands a punch that whips my head to the side. Pain spreads throughout my jaw. My skin tightens. I spit out blood in the grass.

“Nice one,” I grumble, rubbing my aching chin.

“Fuck,” Reed growls. He’s shaking out his hand when I turn back. “Is your face all muscle? Asshole. You and that fucking chiseled jaw.” He flexes his fingers, glances at the blood in the grass and then at the cut in my lip. “Ah. I get why we’re out here now. You didn’t want to bleed all over my house.” A grin twists his mouth. He looks smug.

I give this one to him. I did lie to the guy.

“So Riley sent you here to take the fall for this? Why isn’t she with you?” Reed asks.

“I fucked up. I didn’t tell her my leg was better. I didn’t want her knowing.”

His face hardens.

The next punch Reed throws is done with his other hand. I leave ten minutes later with a split lip and the beginnings of a black eye.

And his parents’ address.

LAYING ON MY back in the middle of my bed, I pick at the worn, fraying cuff of my sleeve as I look around my childhood bedroom.

I haven’t lived here since before I moved in with Richard. Nothing has changed though. The walls are still painted hot pink and the ceiling is still decorated with those glow-in-the-dark stars. I stuck them up there without asking permission first. One is missing. It fell down sometime when I was in high school and took a patch of drywall with it.

My mom was thrilled. This is probably why she hasn’t bothered to remove the rest. It’ll ruin her ceiling.

I never expected to be back in this room. Once you move out of your parents’ house, you think that's it. I used to love it here. The bright color. The walk-in closet where I’d sit and talk on the phone for hours with the door closed. And where I also hid my first minis I got at a party and anything else I didn’t want my parents finding. But now, now the walls are too bright and the carpet irritates the bottoms of my feet. I miss CJ’s room. The muted tones and the cold wood floors. The freezing air pumping out of the vents.

I tug at the collar of my hoodie as tears prick at my eyes. It’s so damn stuffy in here. I hate it. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">