Page 78 of Always Love You More

“Yeah, it’s just me.” I move to his side. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shakes his head against the pillow. “I wanted to be up for your first day.” He turns. “My alarm …”

“It’s okay, really.”

“You heading out now?”

I nod. “Luke will be here in a few minutes.”

“All right,” he says. “Well, have a good day.”

“You, too,” I answer. “Try to get some sleep.”

He’s already shutting his eyes before I turn to leave.

I start down the stairs and see my father still asleep on the couch. I’m relieved I won’t have to deal with him this morning, but that quickly fades when I spot Carson sitting at the kitchen table.

His head is bent over his phone, a protein shake on the table beside him. I skirt past him, into the kitchen, and start a pot of coffee.

It just begins brewing when he asks, “That what you’re wearing?”

I glance down at myself but don’t respond.

The sound of his chair dragging against the floor fills the room. “I asked you a question.”

“Obviously, it’s what I’m wearing if I have it on,” I snap back.

“You’re asking for it, you know that?” He stands, leaning against the counter. “It’s a good thing you have that boyfriend now, ’cause I’m sure as shit not stepping in anymore.”

I set the coffee pot down and face him. “What are you talking about?”

“You think I don’t hear what people say about you at school?” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m your brother; I can’t let people say that shit in front of me and not correct them.”

“I never asked—”

“How do you think it would make me look if I didn’t step in, hmm?

“It’s not my fault people say that stuff.”

He laughs. “Yeah, it is.” Waving a hand, he adds, “Look at you.”

A knock sounds at the door, and my head jerks up. I twist the lid on my travel mug and move to leave the kitchen, but when I start to pass by the counter, Carson steps in front of me.

“I’ve gotta go,” I mutter. He still doesn’t move, forcing me to look up at him. “Carson, come on. He’s waiting for me.” I move to sidestep him, and he mirrors me, continuing to block my way. “Move.”

He tsks. “Aw … that’s not very polite of you. Come on, sis; say please.”

I try to move around him again, but he shifts with me.

“Seriously, fuck off.”

He snatches my arm so tightly I wince. “Say please, Samantha.”

I look down at my arm and whisper, “You’re hurting me.”

“Say it.”

I blink my eyes closed. “Please, Carson, let me past.”