Page 38 of The Score We Never Settled

“Can’t have that.” He compresses his mouth on my skin again. “Two weeks.”

I bob my head, then cup his face and kiss him, coaxing that timeline to shorten without words.

Briggs moans in his chest, pumping into me again and threatening to make me lose control again.

It’s all he’s ever done with me.

And I want to be that for him, too.

I just don’t know how I’m going to get my Uncle Ben to see how he makes me feel, and that I feel complete with him.

10

LAYLA

“Layla!”

My screen door slams after my uncle’s frantic call out to me, and I’m surprised it took him this long to approach me about the subject matter that I know is going to come out of his lips next.

Briggs is home.

He saw him.

Did I see him?

You need to stay in the house.

I don’t want you near that boy.

Thing is, I’m a grown-ass woman, and my uncle can’t keep dictating what I do.

I mean, technically, I’ve already gone behind his back and did exactly what he never wanted me to do in the first place, so this talk is pointless.

“Briggs Kerrigan is home.”

He doesn’t even make it to my living room before those words of horror leave his lips. So, when I spray my windows with the cleaner in my hand, the first clear indicator that I’m already privy to this news.

“When?”

I exhale a sigh silently before craning my head over to look at him.

He’s in a tan plaid shirt today, blue jeans that are held up with a thick brown belt that proudly displays a silver belt buckle.

He’s going to lose his shit.

He’s going to do that, and he’s going to try to watch me like a hawk while Briggs is here.

“Yesterday,” I deadpan nonchalantly. “He’s only here a week, Uncle Ben.”

“That’s sevendays.”

It is.

And, give it to Briggs, he’ll turn Magnolia Ridge upside down in that amount of time.

“You sound more terrified than I am,” I point out, returning to my task at hand. “He was bound to come home eventually.”

“Why?” Uncle Ben clips out. “He never does.”