Page 27 of Fight For Me

“Misogynistic,” I tell her, laughing and pulling her down into my lap to give her a cuddle. I freaking love Will’s younger sister CeCe. She’s a teeny tiny little thing. When she was a baby, I used to dress her up and play with her like she was my own personal real-life doll. These days, the girl is eighty percent sass, twenty percent sweetness, and she always, always makes me laugh.

“Misogynistic,” she repeats, holding out her hand to her dad. “Pay up.”

“You tell ‘em, sister.”

“Why does Fox look so grumpy?” she whispers in my ear as her dad grumbles around pulling bills from his wallet.

“He thinks Uncle Daltrey is babying him.”

“Hmm.” Her eyes dart around the table. “What’s Wyatt’s excuse then?”

My eyes dart over to her oldest brother to see him staring at us. CeCe is right—Wyatt looks even more grumpy than Fox. I couldn’t begin to guess why. Because I’m being nice to his sister? Does he have so little respect for me that he would think I’d…what? Use her to win him over?

A flush of embarrassment goes through me, and I hide my face behind CeCe’s ever-present rainbow knit cap while I try to bring my heart rate back under control. By the time I look up, everyone is focused on Fox again. “So?” his dad asks. “Are you in?”

He sighs, looking over at Everly, who seems a lot happier now that her dad is no longer glowering. “Fine. I don’t care if Wyatt stays here.” He points a finger at him. “But you do not get to dictate what we do. Not when it comes to the show, or the shop, or our daily lives.”

Wyatt nods. “That’s the plan.”

Now all the attention shifts to me. “What about you, Allie,” my dad asks. “You cool with this?”

Am Icoolwith this? Am I cool with living in a condo with Wyatt Warner? The very thought is laughable.

Down at the other end of the table, he’s not meeting my eye. In fact, he’s staring so intently down at his hands that I’m surprised he hasn’t burned a hole through them. I try to imagine six weeks of him acting like this whenever I’m in the room. There’s no way.

“Can I talk to Wyatt for a minute?”

His head snaps up, something like panic flashing in his eyes. “I’m, uh.” He clears his throat. “I’m right here. You can say whatever you want.”

I raise my eyebrows in challenge, almost enjoying the way the color leeches from his face as he reads my meaning.You really want me to say what I have to say right here, buddy?

He clears his throat again. “Fine. Let’s uh, go outside.”

Everly shoots me a wide-eyed look as I slide CeCe off my lap. I never told her about what happened two years ago, but she knew all about my teenage crush on her older cousin. My dad and uncles wear confused expressions, but I ignore them all as I lead Wyatt out onto the balcony. He immediately goes to the railing, about as far from me as he can get. I’m momentarily struck by a wave of yearning as I take in the outline of his body. He has a different frame than his younger brother Will, who’s all broad and bulky, like their dad. There’s a grace to Wyatt that you don’t see in his dad or brother. He’s tall and slightly lanky, with those long, lean muscles that have been making me crazy since I was a teenager and he wasn’t even aware of my existence.

Watching him stand here now, a dark figure against the city lights below, makes me want to reach out and touch him. To wrap myself around that strong, tall body and never let go.

Instead, I clench my fists in my lap and let out a huff of exasperation. “This—this right here is why I’m having a hard time saying yes to this stupid idea.”

He doesn’t turn to face me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I snort out a laugh. “You know, I thought maybe after the funeral, you might drop this.”

“Drop what?” he bites out. With his back to me, I can’t see his expression, but even within the shadows of the dark balcony I can see the rigid set of his shoulders. Tension radiates off him. It’s perfectly clear that he would rather be anywhere else but here. And that’s the whole problem.

“Look, what happened two years ago—”

“Do we need to talk about that?” he asks, and I’m pretty sure there’s a thread of fear under his brusque tone. “It was a long time ago. I barely even remember that night.”

Well, ouch.

I have to take several deep breaths to ease that sting before I can continue. “I know I make you uncomfortable,” I finally blurt out. “I know you think you have to be on your guard around me. But you don’t. I get it, Wyatt.”

He turns to face me but with the bright lights of the city behind him his face remains just as inscrutable.

“What do you get?”

“That you think I still have a crush on you, or whatever.” A crush. Uh huh. Sure.