Page 90 of Endgame

“Good.” Amelia sighed heavily. “I’m glad.”

I nodded, still pacing.

“Is it because of Mercedes?”

I stopped and swung around to face her. “What?”

“People are talking, Rourke,” my sister said in a suddenly serious tone. “The girls on my soccer team are saying you ended things with Britt because you’re secretly seeing Mercedes.”

“Bullshit,” I growled, unwilling to tell my sister anything. “Ignore them.”

“They’re saying you and Mercedes have been hooking up all summer,” she added with a concerned frown. “Is it true?” She swallowed deeply and blushed. “Have you two been hooking up?”

Yes.“No,” I lied.

“You’re a horrible liar.” My sister looked at me with a dubious expression etched on her face. “Do you think I’m blind? Rourke, I’ve seen the way you both look at each other.”

“Nothingis going on.”

“Is Britt the one who cut up Mercy’s face?”

I flinched, but didn’t reply.

“Rourke,” Amelia said wearily. “Come on.”

“What do you want me to say?” I demanded then, feeling a sudden pang of anger. I didn’t need to explain myself to my little sister. “For fuck’s sake, Mills.”

“Don’t break her, Rourke,” Amelia said then, tone soft. “I have a feeling there’s more to Mercedes than she lets on. I get the distinct impression that she’sfragile.”

“Six, fragile?” I laughed at the notion.

“I’m serious,” Amelia urged. Hopping down from the bar stool, she walked over to where I was standing. “Mercedes isn’t some random girl you can walk away from when it goes to hell.” Amelia placed her hands on her hips and glared up at me. “Cass is having Dad’s babies; you can’t chase this one off, Rourke. You guys messing around with each other could cause a lot of problems.”

“You’re wasting your breath on this conversation,” I shot back. “I’ve already told you there’s nothing going on.”

“And I’ve already told you that you’re a horrible liar,” my sister replied before walking out of the kitchen.

Amelia’s warning fell on deaf ears though. I wanted Six and I wasn’t about to change my mind. And if I was being honest, I didn’t think anything could.

Rourke

“HEY GUYS, IF YOU listen real careful, I think ya’ll will just about be able to hear it!” Mason announced in a serious tone to the team after football practice on Tuesday afternoon.

Reebo, who was slouched on the bench next to me, threw his towel across the room at Mason. “The fuck you talking about, Mase?”

Mason caught the towel midair and grinned. “The sound of Rourke’s balls dropping.”

“Stupid shit,” Daryl, who was on my other side, muttered. “Ignore him, Rourke. The fool’s clueless.”

Waggling his brows, Mason added, “Sissy’s got the poor fucker all frazzled.” Encouraged by the sniggers of our teammates, Mason continued to fuck with me.

He stood up on the bench and cupped his hand to his chest. “Lord haveMercy,” he chuckled as he rolled his hips and pretended to be slapping something in front of him. It didn’t take a fucking genius to figure out what. “Girl’s got an ass like a fucking porn star.”

The room erupted in laughter and Bear, who was getting changed beside Mason, shook his head and sighed wearily. “You ain’t real smart, are you, Mase?”

“Aw, Rourke knows I’m only messing around.” Laughing, Mason jumped down from the bench and smirked. “It’s all good.”

I did know he was joking around, but that wouldn’t prevent him from getting his ass kicked.

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