Page 73 of Crew
Hearing Taz again, I gestured inside. "My friend wants you to sponsor something for a charity event."
"Right. She said something when I went in."
"Are you going to?"
Heather reached down and straightened back up, her old smoker's can in hand. She bit down on her lip, gazing a bit too adoringly at it. She murmured, distracted, "Are you asking on her behalf? Or are you asking for the sponsorship too?"
"On her behalf."
"That's funny," Heather said, lifting her head. "She opened with a line that if I sponsored an ad, I'd be helping you out."
"Are you serious?"
"Her exact words were, 'You're dating Channing Monroe, and his sister needs your help."
"I--" I sighed.
Jordan snorted in laughter. "That sounds like Taz."
Zellman kept looking at Heather's exposed leg. I was almost sure I saw a drop of drool at the corner of his mouth.
Cross came outside then, letting the screen door bang shut behind him. He had a burger in one hand and a small bag of fries in the other. He handed the fries to me. "That's for you." Digging into his pocket, he pulled out two packets of ketchup and handed those over too.
"What? We're eating here?" Jordan asked. He looked at me. "We're eating now?"
I glanced at Heather. She seemed relaxed, though she was looking at that can almost the same way Zellman was looking at her. I shrugged. Why not? Taz was still inside.
"I'm okay with that."
"Score."
Jordan jumped up. Zellman didn't, still distracted.
"Dude." Jordan hit his shoulder with the back of his hand.
"Huh?" Zellman blinked a few times. "Oh, hey, Cross." He zoomed in. "Wait! You got food? We're eating here?" And it was inevitable; his gaze drifted back down to Heather's leg.
"Boy," she growled, her hand tightening around the smoker's can. "If you don't stop ogling me, I'm going to hit you upside the head with this can. Got it?"
"Got it." He jerked back, as if slapped, then rushed inside after Jordan.
"Yesss." Cross dropped down in one of their abandoned chairs. He lounged back, kicking his feet to rest on the empty bonfire pit.
"Okay." Heather stood, handing the can to me. "I have to go work or do something. You'd think I'd be over this shit, but nooo. A bad fucking habit for life really means a bad fucking habit for life." Her eyes settled on me a moment as she headed for the door. "I'll let you know if they call again."
"Thank you."
"You're still worried?" Cross asked when the door closed behind her.
"He's my brother. I mean, that's normal. Right?"
Cross put his burger on the chair next to him. "He'll be fine." He looked over his shoulder to where Heather had gone. "If we're really needed, she'll tell us to go. You know that."
I knew he was right. Channing wouldn't want us involved, but Heather wasn't my sister. She'd send us in if she thought we needed to go, or she'd call in other guys to help back him up. Coming here just helped me know one other person was worried about him too--and shit, I just realized I was worried about my brother.
My brother.
I blinked a few times, straightening up in shock. "I'm worried about my brother." How'd that happen?
