Page 131 of Endgame

“I am,” I whispered, holding her so tightly I was surprised she could still breathe, because I sure as hell couldn’t. “I will.”

MY PHONE RANG loudly several hours later, waking us both. Six was still wrapped around me, but quickly sprang up to a sitting position; the intrusive fucking ringtone startling her. I wanted to squash the motherfucking piece of plastic she was reaching for.

I watched through hooded eyes as Six leaned over me and grabbed my cell from the nightstand before swiping her finger across the screen and pressing it to her ear.

“Um, hello?” she asked, rubbing her forehead.

I smirked to myself. I didn’t even care that she was answeringmyphone. I was enjoying the view of her tits too much. Besides, I had nothing to hide.

“Gabe?” Six frowned. “Why are you calling?” Her eyes widened then. “Um, Rourke? He’s…uh…” Her gaze flashed to me and her entire face flamed. “He’s out,” she lied, wincing. “Yeah, um, he left his phone at home.”

I smothered a laugh.

She was a fucking horrible liar.

“Is my Mom okay?” Six’s body stiffened as she listened to whatever was being said on the other side of the line. “But she said –” Another pause. “Four more weeks?” She gnawed on her fingernails. “Okay, I guess. It doesn’t sound like my opinion matters either way.”

Curious to know what was being said, I pulled myself up to a sitting position and rested my chin on her bare shoulder. Six shivered under my touch, her gaze flickering to me. “Yeah, Gabe, fine. Bye – yeah, tell my Mom I love her, too.”

“What’s wrong?” I asked after she hung up the phone.

“They’ve extended their trip for another four weeks.” Her voice was so sad when she spoke, and I was instantly annoyed at our parents for upsetting her.

Six had been convinced our parents were coming back next week. I had known better. Her mother might have been good at keeping her word, but I knew my father and his word meant shit.

I pressed a kiss to her shoulder and whispered, “Is that a bad thing?”

She chewed on her lip and thought about it for a moment before saying, “I guess not.”

“You’re not her keeper, Six,” I said then. “Your mother?” I clarified. “She’s not your responsibility.”

“I just worry about her,” she replied quietly. “It’s a force of habit.” She shrugged helplessly. “I’ve been doing it my whole life.”

Those words alone pissed me off to epic proportions.

She wasn’t loved. That was it. She never felt loved by her mother. Fuck. She was lonely and uncertain. I wasn’t blind. I’d been paying attention for the past two months. I was fully aware of the dynamics of Six and Cassidy’s relationship and it drove me batshit crazy. As I grew closer to Six, my anger and resentment for her mother grew. She was so fucking selfish. I wondered how long Six had been left alone to deal with everything. A part of me didn’t want to know, because deep down inside, I already did and it infuriated me.

“Get dressed,” I announced, dragging myself from my dark thoughts.

Six turned and gaped at me. “Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out.”

“You don’t have to,” she was quick to point out, cheeks flushed. “I know the score between us, Rourke.”

Knew the score?

Oh, she had no fucking clue.

“I want to,” I replied. “I’ll buy you breakfast down at the pier or something.”

“It’s 3:30 in the afternoon, Rourke.”

I shrugged. “Fine. I’ll buy you lunch and dinner – whatever you want.”

“How is this even happening?” she surprised me by saying instead.

I frowned. “What?”

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