Page 29 of Meant to be Falling
Except when I hadn’t wanted to go to college and get my associate’s degree. Wehadfought about that. We didn’t have the money and we had a shit ton of problems we were trying to claw our way out of.
But he’d insisted and I’d applied for all the scholarships I could to lessen the burden. He’d been so damn proud, and even now, I still want to make him proud.
We’ve been to hell and back and each have the scars to prove it.
We’ve always been stronger together than we ever were apart, and that’s something that has embedded itself on our respective DNA.
“What if I’m not good enough to be what she needs?”
“First of all, shut your damn mouth talking like that,” he says, the fierceness in his tone making my lips curve up on one side. “And second, I raised you better than that.”
“I know,” I say, putting my hands up in surrender. “You’re right. It’s just a lot and not in the way that I’m worried about our ages or kids. It’s the other stuff that I know will come up.”
“You’ll have to tell her,” he says, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “if she’s it for you.”
I nod, looking at the window and remembering my eighteenth birthday, the rightness of what I’d done that day still resonating with me over five years later.
Bodhi hadn’t tried to talk me out of it.
And I still believe it’s the best decision I could have made, but a lot of people didn’t share my stance, and it had been a tough realization that it would make or break so many things.
“Yeah, but I gotta make sure you like her.”
“No, you don’t.”
“What?” I sit up and turn my body to look at him. “Of course I do. I can’t date, let alone marry a woman who doesn’t think you’re fucking awesome.”
He snorts. “Yes, you can. It’s called being an adult and making your own damn decisions.”
“Yeah, well, my damn decision is that if she doesn’t like my brother, she’s out.”
“Your happiness is the most important thing.”
“And I wouldn’t be here to enjoy that happiness if it wasn’t for you, so drop it.”
Bodhi’s lips press into a thin line, neither of us speaking for a long time because it wasn’t a euphemism.
I would have died if Bodhi hadn’t been there—hadn’t stepped in, hadn’t risked his own life—for me.
“We’re gonna have to figure out how to do this. So when we get back…maybe,”—he swallows like the idea physically pains him—“maybe you can have her over to the house for dinner? Or we can meet her out.”
“Thank you.”
“I just…” He sighs. “I don’t want to hold you back.” His hands grip the steering wheel, the leather squeaking in response. “I don’t know if that’ll ever be me, Mase, and I don’t want you to think we gotta be two old men sitting on a porch, still a couple of bachelors. Seeing you doin’ all this,”—he waves his hand around—“I dunno, I just never thought beyond it.”
My chest squeezes at the thought because in my mind we’d keep doing everything together.
Together until the end.
“Dude—”
“We’ll figure it out, all right? I’ll meet your girl, give you my blessing, and we’ll go from there.”
“Okay,” I say, trying to brush away how unsettled his response has made me. “We’ll be easy.”
“Easy and free.”
13
