Priceless

  “No, seriously, Brandt. I need your help.”

  He sounded fervent enough to catch my attention. So I lifted an eyebrow and focused on him, all my protective instincts flaring to life. “What’s up?”

  “I need to borrow Sarah.”

  Totally not expecting him to say that, I shook my head and blinked. “Say what?”

  “Yeah, I need her mad computer skills so I can have a bit of help hacking into my student account and change my last American History test from an A to a B, possibly a C.”

  I blurted out a surprised laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You want to lower your grade?”

  “Hell, yeah. I’m already bordering on becoming salutatorian of my class, and I don’t want to look too smart.” He winked Julianna’s way. “People might start getting nasty expectations.”

  “Trust me.” She flashed him a smirk. “I don’t care what your GPA is. I still think you’re an idiot.”

  “See.” He grinned at me as he motioned toward her. “A woman after my own heart. You should just step aside and let me have her now.”

  When I only stared at him with a look that clearly told him how much of a dumbass he was, he lifted his hands. “So what do you say? Be the best brother ever and hook me up with a little Sarah time? She can hack into school records, right?”

  “She’s not for rent, asshole. Leave her alone.”

  He sighed, losing a bit of patience as he sat back. “You know, I could go straight to her, right?”

  “Then why didn’t you?” I turned away to make sure everything was set up and good to go before we opened the door to paying customers.

  “Because you always get surly and protective whenever I merely mention her. So out of respect for you, I came here first. Plus...if you put in a good word for me, she’d be more inclined to help ya brother out.”

  No, she really wouldn’t. But I didn’t tell him that. “Leave Sarah the fuck alone.”

  “But—”

  “I said no.”

  “Who’s Sarah?” Julianna asked, making me jump because I wasn’t aware she’d been listening in. “Your girlfriend?”

  “What?” I spun to her with a frown before shaking my head. “No. She’s just my friend.” Directing my hard gaze back to Colton, I gritted out, “And she’s not to be fucked with.”

  He must’ve realized he’d lost all ground with me because he let out a long, aggravated sigh and swung his feet to the floor before standing. “Fine. Be an ass. But if I end up getting a goddamn A in the class, you better not call me a fucking nerd.”

  I sighed. “Just go home, nerd. Finish your grounding like a good boy.”

  “Screw you.” He flipped me the bird before glancing at Julianna and winking. “I’ll be back for you when I turn eighteen.” And then he strolled away.

  A ten-second silence followed his departure before Juli started in. “So...that was your brother?”

  Bracing for the tongue-lashing she no doubt wanted to give me, I swung to my coworker. “I am so sorry. He’s clearly been dropped on his head a few times too many.”

  She watched me a second before murmuring, “All right then.” Expression transforming into a grin, she kept smiling at me over her shoulder as she turned to grab a glass. “And that thing he said about you trying to score with me?” She filled the cup with ice. “That true?”

  I blinked, totally not expecting her to ask that. Since she sounded more intrigued than offended and she was still smiling, I lifted my eyebrows. “Well, I don’t know,” I hedged. “Do I actually stand a chance?”

  She laughed, a full, throaty sound. “If you honestly called me Halle Berry hot, then hell yeah.”

  “Really?” I rested my back against the counter, facing her and away from the rest of the bar. The idea of doing something with a coworker gave me pause, but she was gorgeous. And she seemed to despise Colton, which already told me she had good taste.

  “Are you working Friday?” she asked as she busied herself by pouring vodka into the glass.

  “Me? No.” I frowned, confused. “Why?”

  “How about you pick me up at seven at my place then, and we’ll see just how much of a chance either of us stands by the end of the night.”

  When she added a liberal amount of Sweet and Sour to her creation, I wandered closer. “What the hell are you making?” I asked, right before jerking to a halt. My gaze sprang to hers. “Wait. Did you just ask me out?”

  She grinned. “I’m trying to come up with my own signature drink.” With a splash of mint, then pomegranate juice, she turned back to me and lifted the glass, asking, “What do you think?”

  I wasn’t a big fan of fruits in my drinks, but I obligingly took the cup from her and sipped. After sucking in a sharp breath and commanding my lips not to pucker, I said, “Wow, it’s...tart.”

  With a scowl, she swiped the glass from me to gulp down a liberal shot before coughing and fanning her face. “Oh God. That’s terrible.”

  I laughed. Across the room, one of the waitresses called out a warning, letting us know she was unlocking the doors and opening the place for business.

  “So, how about that date?” Julianna asked as she dumped the drink down the drain and immediately added gin to the empty glass.

  Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but chuckle again. I suspected I was going to like Juli.

  “As long as you don’t poison me before then, I guess I’m in.”

  She let out a mock gasp. “Poison you? Boy, you just watch. Before long, I’m going to come up with the most amazing new drink ever.” Then she nudged me with her elbow. “Why don’t you try your own?”

  I shrugged. No one had come in yet for business, so I followed her lead, grabbing some bourbon and tequila. By the time we’d tossed out more alcohol, we were both laughing over how awful our concoctions were.

  For a Tuesday, business was light. Only a handful of groups came in, so we were able to keep up our signature drink blends between customers with ease. But even that grew boring after half an hour or so. Sighing, Julianna leaned her elbows on the counter to watch the patrons talk and mingle.

  “We need to start a Taco Tuesday or something,” she murmured. “It is so freaking dead here compared to the weekends.”

  I winced, not at all on board with that idea. I actually enjoyed a quiet night every once in a while, especially after working a rowdy weekend.

  But I grinned at her and teased, “Thanks a lot. Now I’m hungry for tacos.”

  “Good luck finding a Mexican restaurant around that delivers.” She turned her attention to a group of guys who approached the bar to order drinks, and I watched her a moment as she entranced all of them with her smile. Yeah, I wasn’t going to try to compete with her anytime soon over which one of us could rake in more tips a night. With that smile, she’d win every time.

  Sighing, I glanced toward my book bag I’d stashed behind the counter, thinking I could get in some good studying time between customers. But the procrastinator in me kept me from reaching for it. It being the last semester of my senior year, I was so over homework. I couldn’t wait until graduation, when I’d have a nice summer break before freaking graduate school began.

  Sarah was probably going to miss homework. She was such a geek; she actually liked writing assignments. Not enough to ever write one for me—because I’d asked, numerous times over the years—but she liked doing them for herself. It was no fair that she’d be done with college after this, and I still had to keep going for my doctorate. It seemed as if our situations should be reversed.

  Thinking of her, I slipped my hand into my pocket to grab my cell phone. I kept forgetting to ask her if she planned on doing the whole graduation walk-through thing, and if so, did she want to go in with me to pick out our caps and gowns together. I wouldn’t have bothered with that shit, but Aspen was all excited about watching me graduate; I figured I should probably attend the walk-through.

  Before I could pull up her name to type out a message, someone else
approached the bar. Since Julianna was still busy with her adoring fan club, I lifted my face to smile at the newbie, only to blink in surprise.

  Speak of the devil...well, the devil’s big brother, anyway.

  “Hey, man.” I sent him a chin-bob greeting as I slid my phone back into my pocket. “You here to see Pick? I think he’s already gone home for the evening.” He’d been leaving early lately since his wife Eva was about to pop out their fourth kid.

  “Actually, no.” He sat on a stool directly across from me. “I’m here for you.”

  That got my attention. Frowning, I moved closer, studying his face to figure out what was up. Mason Lowe only came to me when he wanted the scoop on his little sister: if something important was happening with her, if she was acting particularly withdrawn or angry or scared, if she needed anything.

  Admittedly, the guy was smart for coming to me because I always knew what she was up to. On occasion, it irritated me because she didn’t always want him knowing every detail of her life. I wasn’t here to spill her secrets—not anymore, anyway. So I usually only gave him just enough information to reassure him she was okay, or if she wasn’t okay, that she’d be okay because I’d take care of the problem. And that was usually enough for him.

  But there was no reason for Lowe to approach me tonight, because there was nothing new going on in Sarah’s life.

  Confused about why he wanted to talk to me, I leaned an elbow on the countertop. “What’s up?”

  He glanced toward Julianna and when he saw she was still busy, he returned his attention to me. “So, who’s this guy?” he asked in a lower, confidential voice.

  I tipped my head to the side, not following. “What guy?”

  “The guy Sarah’s going on a date with.”

  My jaw fell open. “Huh?”

  “I know Reese told me to leave it alone and trust Sarah’s instincts, but this is my little sister we’re talking about. And if you think there’s anything even remotely off about him, I will shut this down right now.”

  “Hold on a second.” I lifted a hand to stop him so I could have a second to think. Then I demanded, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  Mason blinked, then squinted his eyes as if he were trying to read the inside of my head. Finally, he straightened, his eyebrows flying up. “You don’t know.”

  I ground my teeth, growing impatient. “Know what?”

  If this was about Sarah, of course I knew. I knew everything about her before anyone else ever learned it. She was my best fucking friend on earth, not anyone else’s.

  Mason had to be misinformed.

  But he sure the hell seemed to think he knew what he was talking about when he said, “Someone asked Sarah out on a date. And she said yes.”

  SARAH

  AGE 22

  I had fallen asleep in the middle of studying the works of Edgar Allan Poe for an English assignment when I was jerked awake in the middle of the night by a tapping, as if someone was lightly rapping on my chamber...uh, window.

  Yawning, I batted down the shirt that had somehow bunched a path halfway along my torso, then struggled upright so I could crawl to the other side of my bed and peer out the pane of glass.

  Instead of quoting, “nevermore,” the raven-haired hottie standing just outside my bedroom pointed to the latch locking him out and mouthed the words, “Let me in.”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. What a demandy-pants. You’d think a simple please would kill him.

  As I got to work, letting him in, I noticed it was after two in the morning. He must’ve come here straight from the bar after he got off work.

  My irritation over him rousing me from my sleep died flat. It wasn’t uncommon for Brandt to appear at my window, but he’d never showed up this late before. So as soon as I managed to jerk the window up, I was asking, “What’s wrong?”

  Blue eyes swirled with an emotion I couldn’t read as he said, “Look out.”

  I scooted out of the way while he grabbed the sides of the window and heaved himself inside. He landed as gracefully as a cat on my bed, then turned his back to me so he could shut the window. The muscles in his shoulders looked tense; I wanted to reach out and touch them, ease whatever was bothering him.

  “Brandt?”

  He sighed and hung his head, then busied himself by kicking off his shoes and ripping the black Forbidden Nightclub hoodie over his head until he was wearing nothing but a worn Superman shirt, blue jeans, and white socks. As he tossed the hoodie onto the seat of my wheelchair sitting vacant next to the bed, he finally gave me his attention.

  Blinking as if startled, he said, “You’re still in your clothes.”

  I motioned to the textbook, notepad, and laptop scattered across the mattress between us. “I fell asleep studying.”

  With an affectionate grin, he shook his head. “What a nerd. You’d probably study in your sleep if you could.”

  “Would not. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

  His grin died, and he cleared his throat as he busied himself by picking up my textbooks and notepads before shoving them into my book bag for me. “Yeah, so...I heard about your date.”

  That caught me off guard. I blinked at him in surprise and opened my mouth to ask how he’d heard when I guessed the answer. “Mason?”

  He nodded as he slid the book bag off the side of my bed and onto the floor, then he scooted closer with an earnest sparkle in his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I shook my head, frowning. “I...I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

  Cracking off a sharp laugh, he glanced around the room before returning his attention to me. “You tell me everything, Sarah. Why wouldn’t you tell me is a better question.”

  “You don’t tell me about any of your dates,” I countered, growing uncomfortable and wondering why I hadn’t told him. It just hadn’t felt like the right thing to do.

  “That’s totally not the same thing,” he snapped.

  Squinting, I tilted my head. He truly looked put out that I hadn’t run to him as soon as Seth had asked what I was doing this weekend.

  “Oh really?” I demanded. “How is it different? Because I’m a girl? Handicapped? Too ugly to be asked out?”

  “What?” Gaping as if I’d lost my mind for suggesting any such thing, he shook his head. “No, because you’ve never been on a date before in your life.”

  Thanks, I wanted to mutter. Rub that fact in, why don’t you? Sarah, the twenty-two-year-old dating virgin—or just plain, all-around virgin—was lame. I got it.

  Except Brandt kept ranting. “I’m guessing this is a big-ass deal to you. For me, dating is any given Friday night. So, again, why would you not tell me about such a big thing for you?”

  Every Friday night, huh? Hmm, I’d had no idea how often he went out with women. He never told me about his exploits; I had to hear about them through the grapevine. I just knew he got around. Frequently. Which might be one of the reasons I hadn’t mentioned Seth to him. If we were supposed to be best friends who told each other our deepest, darkest secrets, then why did he never mention any of his hookups to me?

  It hurt my feelings that he couldn’t trust me with that, so okay, I’d been a little bit smug and spiteful when Seth had asked me out. I finally had something to keep from Brandt.

  Plus, there was also the worry that Brandt might—

  “I’m going to kill him!”

  Yeah...that.

  “What?” I shook my head, boggled as to why he’d already reached the point of stabbiness. “Why?”

  “Because you were bound and determined to keep this from me for a reason, probably because the guy’s a douche and needs his ass kicked. So I’m kicking it.”

  Yep, there went my overprotective savior. Like usual. Except tonight it didn’t fill me with the usual warm, happy endorphins because it told me how much he loved me. No, tonight it irritated the hell out of me.

  “Has it occurred to you,” I started through gritted teeth, “that maybe I didn?
??t tell you because I actually wanted to go on this date?”

  My answer halted him in his tracks. Beautiful, dark eyebrows crinkled in confusion. “Huh?”

  I laughed. When he scowled, my amusement faded into a sigh. “Tell me honestly, if I had let you know about this from the beginning, that you wouldn’t have tracked Seth down, done some kind of background check on him, or tried to intimidate him, basically frightening him away before I could even go out with him?”

  He only sniffed and glanced away. “Hey, if the guy can’t take a little heat, he should stay out of the kitchen.”

  With a growl, I jabbed my finger in his direction. “Except this is the only time anyone’s ever wandered anywhere near my kitchen. Don’t fuck it up for me. Please.”

  His eyes flared. “Did you just compare a kitchen to your...” When his gaze wandered down to my lap, his expression filled with dismay as if I’d just traumatized him for life.

  “Yes! I did.” I clapped my hands in front of his face until he jerked his attention up. “And no one’s eaten in my kitchen...ever, which depresses the hell out of me. I don’t want to die a virgin, Brandt.”

  Brandt choked out a hoarse sound, and his eyes bulged.

  I kept talking. “I want to experience all of it, at least once in my life. And this...this is like finally getting my foot in the doorway of life. I just...I want to go on a date, like a normal girl, without my best friend giving the guy the third degree.” I cupped his face in my hands and looked him straight in the eye. “So can you please not get involved in any way?” When a dark scowl coated his face, I instantly revised, “Until, like, the second date, anyway?”

  If I made it to a second date. I was still shocked Seth had been interested enough to ask me for the first one.

  He’d always been polite enough when he’d come into the writing center where I worked to be tutored, but he’d never shown, you know, that kind of interest before. I’d nearly fallen out of my chair when he’d lingered after our session yesterday to see what I was doing this Friday.

  Who knew me correcting his they’re-their-there’s would turn a guy on? But whatever. At the moment, I didn’t even care why he’d asked, I was just excited he had.