Page 17 of Wreckage of My Life
“What a freak,” I mutter under my breath.
“I really like you, Becca,” Wrecker mumbles from around a mouthful of his food. He sounds surprised, and I kind of am too.
“I wish I could say the same, Wrecker,” I mumble and take a bite out of my own burger.
This trip is shaping up to be quite the adventure.
8
Wrecker
“No way,”Becca slaps a hand on the hard surface between us as she tries not to laugh herself under the table. I am telling her some stories from the club, all involving club whores and members doing all sorts of goofy ass shit while drunk or high. I try to keep it light and fun.
“Yes way,” I confirm as I steal a French fry off her plate.
“Hey, I don’t share food,” she tries to slap my hand out of the way.
“You do with me,” I tease her and snatch another one.
Her phone starts ringing in her purse. By the time she unzips it to get it out, it stopped.
“Damn it, again,” she mutters.
“Who’s that?”
“Colton,” she mumbles the same name I saw on the screen of her phone earlier. “He’s my b…”
“Boyfriend?” I interrupt her, so sure of what she’s about to say.
“Brother,” is her laconic response, one eyebrow raised just about to the ceiling, making me feel like the douchebag she accused me of being earlier. And that’s no easy feat because I normally don’t care about what people think of me.
“Brother, right,” I mumble and snatch another fry off her plate. Those suckers are really good.
“Ah, so your comment from earlier today is making perfect sense now,” she grins at me. “You’re such an asshole, you know that?” she chuckles. I was expecting her to be angry and want to rip me a new one. But here she is laughing. I really like this girl, not just saying it.
“Guilty,” I shrug and try not to grin back, but I can’t help it. She rolls her eyes at me when they connect with mine, but is still smiling, so that’s a good thing.
Her phone starts ringing again, and she about jumps on it to finally answer it. I unashamedly listen in as she talks with her brother, even though I can only hear half of the conversation.
“Colt,” she grins into the speaker. “I was about to call you!” My eyebrows go up to call her out on it. She lifts her shoulders and puts her free hand out, like asking me what else could’ve been said.
“No, I’m okay. Sorry if you were worried.”
I reach for her last French fry, and she fights me for it, her hand slapping at mine relentlessly. I win though, and, with a flourish, I stick it in my mouth. She gives me the finger. I almost choke on my fry when I start laughing.
“No, I’ll be home this weekend,” she continues her conversation. “Emily is going to pick me up from the airport. I’ll be home before you’re done with practice, I promise.”
I don’t take my eyes off her during this entire exchange. I am fascinated by it. She’s talking to her brother more like a mom than a sister. So weird. Then again, I don’t know anything about having a close relationship with a sibling, considering mine left the roost fifteen years ago and never looked back. He did visit a few times, but his relationship with our father has always been worse than mine, especially after he told him that he didn’t want to prospect for the club.
“That’s great, Colt,” Becca’s voice erases all thoughts of Wyatt and our love, or lack thereof, for each other. “I’m really proud of you. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?” With that, she says her goodbyes and hangs up.
“Sounds like you two are close,” I comment when I have her attention again.
“Well, it’s been just the two of us for the last five years,” she laughs, but there’s some sadness in there. “We didn’t really have a choice.”
In the corner of my eye, I see Wanda heading our way with the bills. I jerk my chin at Becca. “You done here?”
“I am out of food,” is her dry response, making me laugh again. I don’t remember the last time
