Home > The Vincent Brothers (The Vincent Boys #2)(12)

The Vincent Brothers (The Vincent Boys #2)(12)
Author: Abbi Glines

“Drink this, you stupid f**ker.”

I peeled my eyes open to see Beau’s annoyed expression before he pressed a cold plastic bottle into my hand. Dropping my gaze, I saw he’d brought me water. The aftertaste of my regurgitated liquor wasn’t appealing. I should thank him for coming to the rescue but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Opening the bottle, I took a long swig and instantly felt better.

“Get a few more drinks, then come on, I’m taking you home.”

His bossy attitude was beginning to get on my nerves. He wasn’t suddenly the good brother, or cousin as far as everyone else knew. Just because he had Ash didn’t make him the smart one.

“Back off, Beau,” I snarled and took another drink of my water.

“I promised Ash I wouldn’t knock some sense into you tonight. Don’t make me break that promise.”

Rolling my eyes, I pushed off from the side of the house where I’d been resting and walked past Beau toward my truck. I wasn’t drunk anymore. I’d just expelled every drop of alcohol from my body in the Jenkins’ shrubbery.

“Don’t do this, Sawyer. You’ve had too much to drink and you’re ready to pass out. Let me take you home.”

Stopping, I turned around and glared at him. “Why? All I do is piss off Ash. I can’t stop looking at her. Wanting her. Why the f**k do you want to help me so bad?”

Beau let out a sigh and returned my glare. “Because you’re my brother.”

That was the crux of it all. Sure hadn’t mattered to him that I was his brother when he’d taken my girl. Technically, he’d thought I was his cousin but we’d always been as close as brothers.

“I thought we’d gotten our closure on this, Sawyer. You gave me your blessing. You gave Ash your blessing and you walked away. What’s wrong?”

What was wrong? Everything was wrong. He got my girl. He got the college I wanted to attend. He got every f**king damn thing I wanted in life.

“Nothing,” I muttered and turned around and headed for my truck again.

“Sawyer, I will literally force you into my truck if I have to,” Beau didn’t sound angry, just sincere.

Tonight, I wasn’t up to handling a one-on-one with him. I was more than positive I’d lose and possibly have a few bruises to show for it.

“Fine. Drive me home.”

After Beau dropped me off, I’d taken a long hot shower and then crawled into bed. Luckily, neither of my parents got up to check on me. Once I pulled the sheets up over my waist, I stared at the ceiling and replayed the fit Ashton had pitched tonight in my head. She’d been angry. Why? Because I’d been making out with Lana in public? All we’d done was kiss. Granted, it was one really hot kiss and that girl’s skin was incredible to touch. Her hair smelled like some sort of soft flower and before we’d been interrupted by Jake’s stupid demand that we get a room, I’d been thinking about how I wanted to taste the skin in the curve of her neck. Her pulse had been racing under my lips and it had been intoxicating. Like nothing I’d ever experienced before.

Ashton had put a quick stop to things though. She’d been spitting mad. Almost a little too mad. Was she... jealous? Could she be? I hadn’t really dated anyone since our breakup. She’d never seen me with any girls and certainly not making out like that. But... jealous... maybe. A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth and I reached for my cell phone.

Me: Please tell Lana I’m sorry I got drunk and was a jerk.

I pressed send and waited to see what Ashton’s reply was. Almost immediately, it dinged. Grinning, I sat up and read-

Ashton: Yes you were. I’ll tell her. Just stay away from her Sawyer.

She was jealous. She didn’t like me being interested in someone else. Ashton wanted both Vincent brothers enthralled with her. Well, this could turn out to be fun as hell.

Me: Can’t do that Ash. I really like her.

I almost thought she wasn’t going to reply when the phone lit up and I read her text,

Ashton: I don’t want her hurt.

I laughed to myself; I knew better. She didn’t want to share my affection. Stingy little brat.

Me: I wouldn’t hurt her. I want to spend some time with her. Can I have her number?

Ashton: Not tonight

I lay back in bed grinning, thinking that Ash had just made this game too fun to walk away.

Lana

“Lana?” Ashton’s voice broke into my internal battle of staying here or just giving up and going back home.

“Yeah,” I replied, wishing I could successfully fake sleep.

Ashton opened the door to the guest bedroom where my aunt had insisted I sleep instead of the extra mattress on the floor of Ashton’s room where I normally slept. I sat up and watched as she walked over to me wringing her hands. That one small nervous mannerism of hers told me that this was about Sawyer. Not something I wanted to talk about. At least not tonight.

“Um... do you, uh, do you like Sawyer?”

How blind could one person be? Ashton had always been clueless to the world around her. She had her little small bubble and she worried about what affected her and nothing more. Now, I was invading her bubble and she was noticing things that she should have picked up years ago.

“Yes, a little.”

Her bare perfectly tanned shoulders lifted with a sigh and she nodded. “I thought so.”

She sat down cautiously on the edge of the bed. I studied her face and wondered if the concern was for me or herself or possibly Sawyer.

“Sawyer wasn’t himself tonight. You know that,” she lifted her eyes to meet mine and I only saw sadness. No jealousy or anxiety. She was just sad.

“I know. I didn’t even realize he drank. I thought that was Beau’s MO.”

“He normally doesn’t. Tonight was a side of Sawyer I’d never seen before. He was very... Beau-like. Or at least the way Beau used to be.”

Her words made everything click. The puzzle that Sawyer had created tonight all fell into place. He had acted like Beau back when Beau wanted Ashton and didn’t have her. A small ache in my chest started and unfortunately, it was all too familiar. It was the same ache I felt when I’d seen the tender, completely devoted look Sawyer would bestow on Ashton every time he glanced her way. Which had been often.

“Makes sense,” I muttered, more to myself than to Ashton.

   
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