Page 49 of Fight Or Flight

Busted.

Shaking my head, I nervously rub my sweaty palms over my thighs and meet my dad’s gaze. My mom knowing I have a thing for Brooklyn is one thing…I’m her favorite cub, remember? This guy…he looks like he’s ready to hang me by my balls.

“It’s not what you think,” I defend.

He cocks an eyebrow and crosses his arms against his chest.

“I saw her sneak out of the basement this morning while I was meditating, so tell me, Simba, what do I think?”

Shit.

I forgot all about his morning routine and his quest for peace. The man is up with the birds.

“We didn’t…you know…do anything…” I stammer. “We were just talking and fell asleep.”

He dismisses my reply with a wave of his hand. Yeah, the words sound flat even to my own ears. I may not have touched her, but that doesn’t mean something didn’t happen. Brooklyn got under my skin. She took root to some place deep inside of me. A place no one’s been. A place I didn’t even know existed.

“You must think I was born yesterday,” he scoffs.

Shaking my head, I swallow and point to the top of his head.

“The gray hair on your head says otherwise.”

“You’re a real wiseass, you know that?”

Before I can respond, my mom enters the room and wraps her arms around my dad’s middle. Lifting her chin to his chest, she smiles at him and it suddenly feels like the wind is ripped from my lungs because watching my mother smile at my dad reminds me how Brooklyn smiled at me this morning when she opened her eyes. You know, before she panicked and tripped over her own two feet trying to escape me.

“Takes one to know one, Tiger,” Mom says before her eyes cut to me. My dad’s arms snake around her and he drops a kiss on the top of her head—just like I did before Brooklyn slipped out of my bed.

“Brooklyn is ready,” Mom says to me.

I blink slowly. Those three words shouldn’t make my heart race. Drawing out a sigh, I slap my hands to my thighs. It’s this house. I need to get away from the Kitten and Tiger show.

“Great, where is she?” I ask hoarsely.

“Right here,” Brooklyn murmurs.

My parents pull out of each other’s arms and my fucking chest tightens as soon as I get a glimpse of her. I’ve said it since I crashed her mom’s car, and I’ll probably say it until I drop dead—Brooklyn is beautiful. Whether she’s wearing pajamas like she was last night when she fell asleep in my arms or now, dressed in jeans and a tank top with her hair curled and makeup on her face.

She is a beautiful hurricane.

“What is it? Is my mascara running?” she asks me.

“No, it’s nothing. You…” My words trail as I feel the weight of my dad’s stare. “We should get going.” I regretfully tear my eyes away from Brooklyn and dig my phone out of my back pocket to call our ride.

“Brooklyn is driving.”

Lifting my eyes from the screen, I stare at my dad. When I first asked my parents if I could go to the party, I told them I had asked my cousin Luca for a ride. He was back in New York training for an upcoming fight and seeing as he’s over twenty-one, I figured I’d take advantage and make him stop to get beer for the party.

He tosses the keys to Joss’ car to Brooklyn.

“No drinking and driving,” he warns as she catches the key ring.

“There’s going to be alcohol at this party?” Brooklyn asks, looking at me.

I shrug my shoulders.

“Can we just go?”

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