“You got something you can use to fix it?”

“I’ve got wax in my purse I think. I forgot it here at Gram’s the other night.” She gave me a small smile. “It won’t help the cuts, but it’ll keep the little fuckers from making them worse.”

The bravado in her eyes from dropping an f-bomb mixed with the little goddamn dimple in her cheek had me smiling back at her. I couldn’t even help myself. It was so fucking…cute. I knew at any minute she was going to remember—she was going to get lost again in grief and guilt, and those few minutes where it was just her and I would be over.

Instead of talking to her, rubbing her back, or getting up so she could go find some of that fucking wax she needed for her braces, I lifted my hand and wrapped it around the back of her neck so I could bring her mouth to mine again.

I was careful, but I still tasted blood when I licked her lower lip.

“Ugh. Gross. I’m sorry. My mouth’s still bleeding,” she told me quietly, but her hands were still threaded through my goddamn hair. Christ, that was hot.

“Don’t fuckin’ care,” I mumbled before pushing my tongue between her lips.

No one could ever accuse me of being a good guy.

Chapter 17

Callie

For a few moments, I was just a normal sixteen-year-old girl again.

He kissed me over and over, careful of the braces, but completely unconcerned with the way my mouth still tasted vaguely of blood. He tasted like tobacco and the gum that was tucked into his cheek, and I practically inhaled him as he tried to keep the kiss light. It wasn’t until we’d reached the breaking point and I was beginning to rock against the thickness in his pants that he finally pulled away.

“Pretty sure this isn’t what your grandma expected us to be doing in her bed,” he told me gruffly, using his hands on my hips to push me back until I was standing by the side of the bed.

“Ha! I’m surprised you care what my Gram thinks we’re doing,” I answered ruefully, still a little dazed as I ran my fingers through my tangled and greasy hair. Yuck, I needed a shower.

His head snapped up at my joke and his jaw was clenched as he stood up from the bed, putting his own hair back into a ponytail.

“Baby, we’re in her house. She’s cooking for us, letting us crash here, and she’s your grandmother. Woman deserves respect,” he chastised, making me feel like a jackass.

I nodded once and then dropped my head to the side, pretending to look at something on Gram’s dresser so I didn’t have to make eye contact. He made me feel like a child. Getting away with something was a common game among my friends, with each of us detailing to each other how we’d snuck around. It had been exciting, doing the forbidden. Now, though, it just seemed immature and stupid.

I was trying to look anywhere but at him, but he wouldn’t let me hide for long. His smile was tender as he wrapped his hand gently around my throat to tilt my face toward his.

“Calliope, we’re under your grandmother’s roof. Not gonna disrespect her and I’m too old to be sneaking around and keeping quiet when I’m with my woman,” he told me, leaning down to give me a deep, wet kiss. “We weren’t here? You’d already be naked and making so much fuckin’ noise you’d be waking up the neighbors.”

He winked at me before turning and opening the door, waving me through.

Whatever universe I’d been in, or part of my mind I’d shut off when I’d realized that he was feeling guilty and I’d needed to comfort him, rushed back with the speed of a freight train when I walked back out into the living room.

Gram and the men were talking quietly at the kitchen table, crowded around almost uncomfortably in the small space, and I didn’t have to wonder why.

My baby brother was sitting on the couch, bent over with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

He was crying. Quietly. Privately.

I glanced up at Asa, who nodded, and then went to Cody. Sitting down next to his hunched back, I draped myself over him, wrapped my arms around his waist, and laid my head on his shoulder.

“Hey, brother,” I whispered, giving him a squeeze.

“Hey,” he sniffed once, rubbing his hand underneath his nose. “This fucking sucks, Callie. What are we gonna do? Gram just got off the phone with the funeral parlor and she’s making all of these arrangements and shit,” he swallowed loudly, using his thumb and fingers to dig into his eyes. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to be doing right now.”

“You don’t have to do anything. Let’s go talk to Gram and see what the plan is, okay?” I pulled him from the couch and dragged him into the kitchen, stopping directly in front of Gram.

“What do you need help with? Anything we can do?” I asked her forcefully. It may have come out a little more abrasive than I hoped because Poet huffed at the end of the table in amusement. I glared at him, causing his eyebrows to raise in response, and then turned to Gram again. “We don’t want you to have to do all of this by yourself, so tell us what the plan is.”

Gram smiled up at Cody and me then stood and wrapped her arms around us. “How’d I get grandkids like you? Huh? Best of the bunch, I tell ya.”

“Gram,” Cody replied, his voice muffled by her shoulder, “I’m reasonably sure that we’re your only grandchildren.”

“Reasonably?”

“Well, Uncle Tommy and Uncle Charles got around…” he told her with a laugh, jumping away before she could swat him with a towel.