“I didn’t say that.”
“Didn’t have to. Your actions speak louder than words—and I have to admit I’m disappointed in you, sis.”
“You used to be proud that I escaped from that place,” Chloe reminded her. “You used to say that you were going to come live with me when you got old enough.”
There was an awkward silence over the line.
“Tess?”
“Corona Mae, it’s one thing to leave to go make something of yourself. It’s another thing to act like you’ve forgotten where you came from.”
“I didn’t—”
“Look. We’ve gone around and around on this issue. I get it that you didn’t want to be forced into marriage at seventeen. You didn’t want to become a teenage housewife, have a house full of children and work part-time at Momma’s hair salon while Lyfe likely joined Daddy at the church and the restaurant. You made your point. But that was a long time ago. Things have changed.”
Silence.
“Corona Mae?”
“Yeah. I know. It’s not like I don’t ever call.”
“Rarely,” Tess corrected.
“It’s just that … “
“You’re scared of running into him,” Tess said, as if picking up her sister’s thoughts over the line.
“Running into who?” She had no idea why she asked such a stupid question. Tess’s bark of laughter was so loud that Chloe had to pull the receiver away from her head in order to save her eardrum.
After a few seconds, she placed the phone back to her ear in time to hear her sister ask, “So are you a talent agent or are you a D-list comedian nowadays?”
“Ha. Ha.”
“You damn right, ‘ha, ha.’ I mean, really, Corona Mae. Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. You might have hauled your butt out of the state and got all your little fancy degrees at all those Ivy-league colleges up there, but I know damn well that you haven’t gotten Lyfe Alton out of your system. So play your little Jedi mind trick on someone who doesn’t know you.”
“I’m sure that Lyfe doesn’t spare me a second thought these days. We were just … kids.”
“Kids in love. You were each other’s first.”
“So what? Everybody had a first. It doesn’t mean that you walk around pining after them for the rest of your life.”
“Please,” Tess drawled. “Everyone is still a little in love with their first—especially women. I don’t care how awful or how much of a jerk the dude turned out to be, there’s still some part of us that’s always going to be in love with our first.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
“That’s the best you got?” Tess laughed. “Pathetic. Why is it so hard for you to admit that you still have feelings for the guy? It’s not going to kill you or anything, you know?”
“Because it hurts too much,” she finally admitted. “Unless you’re telling me that Lyfe personally walked up to you and announced that he still has feelings for me, then I’m just going to assume that since he has never picked up the phone and called me that none of this means anything. I mean—did he even ask about me?
Silence.
The pain in her chest increased tenfold. “There. You see? Now can we drop it?”
“All right. Fine,” Tess finally agreed. “But what about Mel—”
“Drop it!”
“Fine. It’s dropped.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I better go. Congratulations again on your engagement. Maybe one day you’ll tell me about this Rowan James—maybe even introduce him to me.”
“Tess—”
“I’ll talk to you later. ‘Bye.” Chloe was left holding the phone while the dial tone buzzed in her ear. “That went well,” she muttered.
Chapter 5
“Yo, Royce. I don’t know about this,” Lyfe said, climbing out of his F150 truck and then slamming the door behind him. “I really don’t feel like hanging out tonight.”
His oldest brother Royce waved his whining off his shoulders like a grain of sand. “Spare me. I think Mom or Dad can handle shoveling dog food into Sadie’s bowl for one night.”
Lyfe hitched up one side of his mouth.
“Seriously, bro.” Royce swung his arm around his brother’s neck as he led the way toward Henry’s Pool Hall. “You need to exchange that bitch for a real woman. I’m starting to worry about you.”
“Thanks, but that’s not necessary.” Lyfe tried to pry himself free from his brother’s tight hold, but Royce’s thick-muscled arm wasn’t having that tonight. He reached and got his older brother into a reverse head-lock and a three-minute wrestling match ensued. It was clearly a draw.
“Whatever happened to that one chick you were seeing a few months back—Kayla, wasn’t it? Hennessey said that he thought you were going to finally pop the big question.”
“Nah. It was never anything that serious.” Lyfe chuckled, stretching his neck muscles.
Royce frowned. “You two were together for like two years.”
Lyfe’s hand stilled on the front door of the pool hall and he tossed his brother an incredulous look. “Wait. You want to give me dating and engagement tips when you’ve never broken your three-month rule?”
Royce shrugged. “And? We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. And you—” he jabbed a finger in the center of Lyfe’s chest “—aren’t like the rest of us. You, unfortunately, inherited that monogamous gene virus that is all the rage with women nowadays.”
“You can’t be a gene and a virus.”
“See.” Royce thumped his chest again. “The mere fact that you know that makes you a freak.”
Lyfe rolled his eyes again—a habit he had whenever he engaged in these kinds of heart-to-heart talks with his brothers. “Let’s just drop it.” He jerked open the pool hall’s door and was greeted with a thunderous …
“Happy birthday!” everyone in the building shouted, holding up their beer bottles the minute the brothers strolled inside.
Lyfe laughed, then gave everyone a quick two finger salute. “Thanks, everybody. I really appreciate that.” He and his brother strolled deeper into the bar toward the back where he knew his other four brothers, Dorian, Hennessey, Ace and Jacob would be teamed up for their fierce pool competitions.
It was always Dorian and Jacob versus Hennessey and Ace as far back as anyone could remember. Only Royce and Lyfe could either take the game or leave it.
They were all competitive, a trait that had helped both Dorian and Ace to become lawyers and Hennessey to become a music executive. Royce was a farmer like their father, and Jacob worked as an architect in the same firm as Lyfe.
Bragging rights fluctuated from game to game and the obscene amount of money that they would bet was never actually collected by either side. That was true whether it was a game of basketball, football or even, sadly, Monopoly. One thing all the boys had equally mastered was the art of trash talking.
“Well, well. You