Page 33 of Cockpit
“No shit, Sherlock. Or else you would have reported him.”
“And I’m far from being a fucking hero.”
“That isn’t what this says.” When he starts to read aloud again, I rip the newspaper from his hands, throw it on the table in front of him, and walk to the kitchen for a beer.
“I said that’s enough.” I’m pissed. Irritated. Why in the hell would she offer up that story?
“Testy. Testy.”
“Knock it off, will you?” He knows how to get under my skin and is doing a damn fine job of it. I grab a beer from the fridge and look out back to where Luke is playing in the fort we’d built out of sheets and two-by-fours.
“Let me see. Hot woman. You to the rescue. Why are you here being so pissy when you could be with her, getting laid?”
I set my beer down, brace my hands on the sink, and watch Luke as I ignore my brother. Is that why I’m in such a goddamn foul mood? Because I can’t stop thinking about her when I want to? Because I had a dream about her last night and woke up rock hard?
Christ.
I must be fucking desperate.
No. I’m just fucking dumb. I’ve done this song and dance before. Claire, meet Sidney; Sidney, meet Claire. Except one of them is in the forefront of my mind.
I scrub a hand through my hair. “It’s all a ploy.”
“A ploy?”
“And it’s your fucking fault.”
“My fault?”
“Quit repeating what I’m saying!”
“What are you saying?”
“Grant.” His name is a warning, and one I almost want to be tested on.
“What?” A chuckle. A lean back so he can prop his feet on my coffee table. Anything to annoy me.
“Sidney’s the one in charge of the damn contest you signed me up for.”
“Save-me-Sidney is?” He chuckles. “No shit. Do I know her?”
“Dude, we went to high school with her.”
“Ahhh, that Sidney.”
“Yeah, that Sidney,” I mutter. “And the article isn’t a coincidence. You signed me up for this stupid contest, and I told her I didn’t want any part of it. Now, I have to deal with this, and it’s your fault.”
“How is your wanting to get funky with Sidney Thorton my fault?”
“Who said I want to fuck her?”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written in everything you are not saying.”
“Back off. I don’t—”
He bursts out laughing. “Nice use of terms.”
I ignore him and keep going. “I don’t want her, I just want her to leave me alone. I want my brothers not to sign me up for a stupid contest. I want someone not to spread false bullshit rumors about me—”
