Page 29 of A False Start
I groan aloud and Nadia’s eyes snap to mine.
“Are you growling?”
I shake my head and keep my eyes on the road, hauling the trailer carefully behind us.
“That’s very feral-mountain-man of you. I went from thinking you didn’t talk at all to realizing that you mostly speak in grunts and growls.” She crosses her arms across her midsection and leans back in the seat with a pleased smile on her face. “A lesser woman would think you were nuts. Lucky for you, nuts works for me.”
God, give me patience to endure Nadia Dalca.
“It’s part of your charm. Sometimes people just talk to fill the space. I think they might just like the sound of their own voice. But you’re so comfortable with silence. It’s kind of peaceful, really.”
I shoot her a withering glare. The irony of talking about people who fill the space with unnecessary chatter while she chatters away unnecessarily is not lost on me.
“Give me that look all you want, Sinclaire. I know you’re a big softie underneath that hard shell. Like a turtle.” Her voice is full of mirth. She’s enjoying the hell out of this. And my mind wanders to all the filthy ways I could wipe that smirk off her pretty face.
I groan and bang the back of my head against the headrest. I want to say something about her terrible comparison to a turtle, but I don’t trust myself to pronounce it right now. Not with her attention fully focused on me.
It’s fucking unnerving.
In a way that it should not be, considering our age difference and connection. I should feel brotherly toward this girl.
And brotherly is very, very far down the list of what I feel for her. But then, I do have a special knack for fucking things up when they’re going well for me. Maybe I’m destined to do that to the only real friendship I’ve had in years, too.
11
Nadia
I walkinto my brother’s home with Griffin trailing behind me. I swear I can feel his gaze on me. My skin hums for him.
Is he staring at my ass? I hope so.
My lips roll together as I try to shove that thought back down. I should not set my sights on my brother’s friend, but that’s getting harder and harder to stick to the more time I spend with him.
He says the horse is a gift and made it seem like he only bought him to rescue him. But I’m having a hard time not looking further into that. Why give him to me? Why not just keep the gelding for himself? Why be okay with giving me riding lessons and having me come around his place when he wants to stay away from me?
There are things that don’t add up, and I’m smart enough to notice them. I’m just not sure what to do with them.
“Hi!” I call out right as the scent of pizza hits me, making my mouth water.
“Hey, guys.” Stefan rounds the corner with his signature smirk on his face. He’s not closed off like he used to be, so I’m not sure why he still hides behind that mask. Either he’s just grown accustomed to that facial expression or Mira has made him happy enough that it’s not a mask at all anymore.
I’d like to think that’s what it is.
He ruffles my hair like I’m still a little kid before stepping just beyond me to clap Griffin on the shoulder. “How ya doin’, man? Nice to have you around.”
The two of them are honestly adorable together. Griffin grunts and I giggle as I walk into the house I called home for several years.
It’s sprawling but cozy, with dark stained wood beams and an industrial kitchen. Big windows lend incredible natural lighting, and the house has this way of matching the rugged landscape of Ruby Creek while also being just a little bit over-the-top. I try to imagine Griffin living here. I try to imagine Griffin being a professional football player too. I can’t see either of those things, to be honest.
The two men chat about I don’t know what, and I don’t care. I have tunnel vision for food right now. They can bro out without me.
Padding into the open living space, I slide into a chair at the counter and assess the open pizza boxes on the counter. I’m pretty sure I’m going to eat them all. It’s hitting me now that I spent all day wrapped up in the new horse and I haven’t eaten a thing. Now, I’m famished.
I grab a slice of pepperoni. No plate. No cutlery. I fold it in half and start shoving it into my mouth.
“Very ladylike, sis,” Stefan mocks.Dick.
“Whatever,” I reply over a mouthful of food. “I’m starving,”
