#Selfie (Hashtag Series Book 4) (7 page)

Braeden

I was feeling pissy.

Rome could tell, I knew, but thankfully, he didn’t try to distract me or talk me out of it. It wouldn’t have worked anyway. Sometimes a guy just felt pissed.

Okay. Sometimes I just felt pissed.

I hefted the last of the girls’ shit down the stairs and out into the driveway. Why women needed so much stuff I had no idea. I mean, hell, they walked around in tiny-ass bikinis all week, not like they needed the fifty pounds of crap they brought with them. Except for Rim, of course. She had one bag, one full-coverage swimsuit, and one thankful big brother.

“That everything?” Romeo asked when Trent and I handed over the last of the haul.

“I hope the hell so,” I replied.

Trent snickered. “Dude, I don’t even want to know what’s in those bags.”

Rimmel came down the steps with a list in her hand and stopped beside me. I glanced down to see the checklist the rental company left of all the things that needed to be taken care of before we left. “Everything is done,” she stated.

I noted the neat checkmarks beside each item and smiled. “Only you would find homework on spring break.”

She elbowed me in the gut, and I made a sound like it hurt. It didn’t, but I didn’t want to make her feel bad. It wasn’t her fault she was harmless as a fly.

“Sweet. Let’s go, then. The airport is waiting,” Romeo said.

Trent glanced at the red convertible. “You sure we’re all gonna fit in there?”

“Like sardines in a can,” I muttered.

“We’ll make it work,” Romeo said.

“Easy for you to say. You’re driving,” I cracked.

He gave me the finger.

“I’ll sit in the back because I’m smaller. One of you guys can take the front,” Rimmel offered.

Technically, we had one person too many for the car. However, instead of calling a cab or renting anything else, we were just going to put the extra person in the back. It was illegal, but who the hell cared?

Missy and Ivy came out the door and started down the steps. Ivy was moving slow and Missy kept her pace, holding her arm like she was an old lady with a broken hip.

“Move your ass, Blondie!” I yelled. “We’re gonna miss our flight.”

“Braeden!” Rimmel scolded me. “She’s hurt.”

I grunted. “It takes a lot more than a bottle cap to take that one down.”

From the stairs, Ivy told me to go suck an egg. I looked back at Rimmel and lifted an eyebrow. “She’s so delicate.”

Rimmel glared at me, and I knew I was about to get a lecture. God help me. If any other woman tried to lecture me, I’d tell ‘em to piss off. But Rim was different. She’d somehow gotten her way in my heart and made a place there. I was really good at keeping women out of there, but this was different. This wasn’t a romantic type of love; it was family. She was family.

In my pocket, my cell rang. “Sorry, sis, I gotta take this,” I said, trying to sound so sad I would miss her instructions (okay, I didn’t sound sad at all) and pulled it out.

It was my mom.

“Mom,” I answered and turned away from the group.

“Hi, Braeden, honey,” she said. “I’m just calling to make sure everything is still on schedule with your flight home.”

I was twenty-one years old and my mom still called to check up on me. She’d probably still do it when I turned fifty. “We’re heading to the airport now, Mom. Everything’s good.”

“Okay, well, you boys have a safe flight. And Rimmel, too.”

“Will do.”

I expected her to say her usual good-bye and end the call. But she hesitated.

“Mom?” I intoned. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no,” she laughed, but it was strained. “I just miss you is all.”

“I’ll stop by once I get settled back on campus.” Or maybe I’d just swing by on the way from the airport. I didn’t like to think of her sitting around worrying about me. Or being lonely.

She’d wanted me to live at home when I went to college, and I did freshman year, but I wanted to live in the dorm. I wanted a little more freedom, some space that was just mine. So I moved on campus. Sometimes I felt bad about it.

“I’ll look forward to it,” Mom said, breaking into my thoughts.

“Cool. I gotta go or we’ll be late. I’ll call you when we land.” I turned back to everyone. Trent was helping Ivy into the car, his hand on the small of her back.

I shoved the phone back into my pocket and went to the car. Trent was getting ready to squeeze himself in the backseat with the girls.

“You want the front, dude?” I asked.

“Nah, you can take it,” he replied.

I slid into the front and spun the hat on my head so it wasn’t backward anymore and then pulled it low on my forehead. The inside of this car felt like a pair of jeans with too much ass in them.

I ignored the chattering of everyone in the back as Romeo pulled away from the house and onto the main road. The vacay had been a fun time. And last night…

Well, I wasn’t going to think about that anymore.

Ten minutes down the road, a bare foot came up between the seats and rested on the center console between Rome and me. I glanced over and caught a flash of red polished toes and the edge of a Band-Aid.

“Your feet stink,” I snapped.

“Who sprinkled the bitch in your coffee this morning?” Ivy retorted.

I sat up, leaned around the seat, and stared at her from beneath my hat. She was in the middle with Missy, poor Rim squished up against the door, and Trent was on the other side of Ivy. Her hair was falling around her shoulders and her arms were crossed over her chest.

I felt our eyes connect; even with my hat partially blocking my gaze, my eyes still found a way to fix on hers. A shock of awareness jolted me, like a shot of tequila that lit a fire all the way from my throat to my stomach and then fanned out to coat my limbs.

Ivy’s teeth sank into her lower lip, and I had an acute memory of sucking it into my mouth and licking over it with my tongue.

There was no way she could know what I was thinking. I gave not one indication. Still, her body tensed and she pulled back her foot, withdrawing as far away from me as she could.

“Is it hurting?” Trent asked.

She ripped her eyes away from me, breaking the half-drunk feeling washing over me. “A little.”

“Propping it up probably would help.”

Was he a doctor now?

“I wouldn’t want anyone to pass out from my stench,” she cracked.

Hell if it didn’t make me laugh.

“If you stink, then I’ve got a third nipple,” Trent said.

Her gasp was amused and exaggerated. “Where?”

His rumbling laugh filled the space behind me, and I rolled my eyes.

“You saw me without a shirt just this morning. Did you see any extra parts?”

“I think I’m gonna need a barf bag,” I announced. Romeo laughed.

“I think everything was where it should be,” Ivy stated like she hadn’t heard me speak at all.

“Give me your foot,” Trent said, laughter still in his tone.

I didn’t bother looking—I kept my body trained toward the front—but I heard a little bit of movement. I imagined Ivy crossing her leg over her thigh and Trent pulling her injured foot into his lap.

“That okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s good. Thanks.”

“Looks like it started bleeding again.” I imagined him cupping her foot in his hand and staring down at the Band-Aid he placed there earlier.

“Well, I did hurry down the steps. People were rushing me.” Her tone was directed at me. So was her snarky attitude.

I opened my mouth to tell her to shut it, but Trent spoke before I could.

“I can change it for you.”

“I might as well wait ‘til after I am through walking around the airport.” I noticed the bitchy tone in her voice had been reserved exclusively for me.

I grunted and turned up the radio. Hopefully it would drown out the sound of her ear-splitting voice. I’d rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than hear her syrupy, slightly southern-accented voice talk to Trent like he was some kind of hero.

He put a bandage on her foot for chrissakes; it’s not like he saved her from amputation.

I spent the rest of the drive to the airport with the brim of my hat pulled low over my eyes and ignoring the small confines of this car. Once we got to the airport, Romeo stopped in the unloading zone to let everyone out before he pulled around to return the rental. After I helped him unload the bags, I started to climb back in the passenger seat, figuring I’d just stick with him and give myself a break from all the women.

Before I could shut the door, Romeo caught it and leaned in. “Rim wants to grab a coffee before we head to the gate.”

I rolled my head across the seat and looked at him. “You want me to stay with her?”

“It’s a big place, lots of people. Trent seems to be pretty caught up in helping Ivy walk. Plus, he’s hauling more than half the luggage.”

I glanced past Rome to Rimmel standing on the sidewalk and sighed. “I got her.”

“Thanks, man.”

“No thanks needed. She’s family.”

We pounded it out, and he jogged around to the driver’s side. Over the hood, he called out to Rimmel, “I’ll meet you at the gate. Stick with B.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder and stepped up beside her as she rolled her eyes. Taking her bag out of her hand, I added it to mine.

“Babysitting again?” she asked.

I shrugged. “I could use a coffee.”

I get why it irritated her that Rome and I pretty much shared the responsibility of looking out for her, because it would probably piss me off, too. But it wasn’t going to change.

“Come on,” she muttered, and the five of us walked into the bustling airport. It was a bright place, full of glass and light, with white shiny floors that stretched out as far as I could see. People hurried across it, dragging bags with wheels behind them.

“You want me to take some of that, man?” I asked Trent. He was carrying his bag, Ivy’s fifty pounds of crap, and half of Missy’s.

“I got it,” he grunted.

Ivy was standing next to him, favoring her uninjured foot over the other. Missy was glancing down at the paper in her hand and then up at the signs. “This way,” she said and motioned us all toward the machines that would give us our boarding passes.

There were so many dispensers that there wasn’t a long line. Rimmel and I stepped up to one, and I ushered her in front of me so she could go first. As she was typing in her info, I glanced next to us where Missy was using the computer. Behind her was Ivy, and Trent was close by.

Her black-and-white dress fell almost to the floor and skimmed her body, outlining the curves I’d gotten to know a lot better just last night.

The way her light-blond hair contrasted against the tan on her long, slender arm was something my eyes found very fascinating, and I stood there like a schmuck and stared.

I knew she felt my gaze. She glanced at me out of the corner of her eye but then quickly looked away.

“Ivy, you mind giving me a hand?” Trent asked, pulling my attention.

The skirt swung around her ankles when she turned and glanced up at him. “Seriously, Trent, you look like a pack mule. I can carry some of that.”

“My momma taught me better than that,” he drawled and then flashed his teeth at her. “‘Course, my momma probably wouldn’t approve of what I’m about to ask you to do.”

My shoulders tensed as I eavesdropped on their little one-on-one.

“I’m intrigued,” Ivy replied, interest in her tone and a slight smirk on her face.

Could she be any more obvious? I mean, shit, we were in an airport for shit’s sake. This wasn’t the time or place to pick up her next hookup.

“I need my ID.” Trent’s shit-eating grin stretched out across his face, and he motioned toward his conveniently full hands.

“Oh, where is it? I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s in my pocket.” He swiveled his hips so his pocket came forward. “Mind grabbing it?”