Page 7 of Make or Break
“Dammit,” I murmured.
“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty, but I sensed something was up with you and Sarah.”
I dragged my hand through my hair. “Any other day, I would have moved out of our apartment, but on Thanksgiving - I didn’t want to be dramatic.”
“What happened?”
“She griped about me wearing my cut since we wouldn’t be on the bike. I said it was a great day for a ride, but… whatever. It wasn’t worth fighting about on a holiday. Seeing Matty and Marjorie’s faces, I wish I’d dug my heels in.”
“There will be other times, Tun.”
“I’m giving her four weeks, Brandy.”
“Did you tell her that?” Her voice was laced with more concern than usual.
“No. Should I? I don’t want her to fall in line for a month and then I’m back to feeling miserable and wishing I got out sooner.”
“Are you sure you want out?”
I let out a mirthless chuckle. “You didn’t hear her on the way home. We weren’t half a mile from Mom’s when she said I never told her I was rich.”
Brandy groaned. “What did you say?”
“Not my house. That seemed to sink in - so far.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. If you move out and need a place to stay - you’re always welcome here. You’ll have to bunk with Matthew, and only if you show up on your Harley.”
Chapter 3
It's Never Dumb to Hope
Mickayla
Present day…
“You don’t want this, but I’m giving you my opinion anyway. She’s a moron, Tundra,” I said, loud enough to be heard over the Christmas music inside the bar.
It had taken some time, but our friendship returned to solid ground not long after Thanksgiving. Seemed double entendres had healing power. Who knew?
Tundra held his rum and Diet Coke to his lips and offered a wan smile. “Not telling me anything I don’t know, darlin’. Or should I call you Ms. Claus?”
I aimed a saucy grin at him. “At least you got the ‘Ms.’ part right. You like my outfit?”
His brows shot up. “Don’t ask stupid questions. What’s not to like, but… I bet your brothers don’t like it.”
No, they wouldn’t, and that was half the reason I bought it. The red velvet strapless baby-doll dress hit me at mid-thigh, and had white faux-fur lining the top and bottom. I’d given my dirty-blonde hair extra volume today so it poofed out from beneath the traditional Santa hat on my head. It was sexy, but not slutty.
I leaned forward so he’d see more of my cleavage, brazenly flirting with him. “My brothers haven’t seen it. They left this morning to go back to Biloxi. What they don’t know won’t hurt them. Heck, Lark thinks it made us more money tonight.”
He finished his drink and set the glass down. “I bet it did. Hell, I’m tempted to tell Yak our headliner needs to strip out of something just like it.” He blew out a breath. “You headed out tomorrow morning?”
I leaned back and shook my head. “Nope. I’m sticking around here.”
He tipped his head toward Lark at the other end of the bar. “He’s shutting the joint down for three days. Gives you plenty of time to drive out to your parents’ house.”
I folded my arms on the bar and leaned closer to him. “He’s giving me an extra day off on the twenty-seventh. I haven’t had four days off in well over a year. I damn sure don’t want to spend fourteen hours of my time driving…and that’s assuming there’s no traffic jams. What are you doing for Christmas? That woman isn’t just a moron for kicking you out, she’s a grade-A bitch, seeing as Christmas is the day after tomorrow.”
He chuckled. “I started gradually clearing my shit out over three months ago. There’s more to it, but signs were there that we weren’t working out. I was just the dumb-ass keeping hope alive.”
