Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)

Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) by M. Robinson

Book: Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4) by M. Robinson Read Free Book Online
Authors: M. Robinson
face. Breaking the silence, he spoke with conviction,
     
    “I’m your God, peladita. Driving the bus to Hell.”

Chapter 4
<>Austin<>
     
    Two years went by, a few months short of my fifteenth birthday. The boys were surfing. The waves were supposed to be at an all-time high, they always were before big storms. On any other given day, I wouldn’t miss the opportunity to surf either, but this day was different.
    My dad was a prominent cardiologist and my mom was a pharmacist. They were the ultimate power couple. I told the boys I had to watch my nine-year-old brother, Hunter, while my parents worked late.
    The truth was I just wanted to be alone.
    I heard footsteps descending down the dock, and I didn’t have to wonder who it was. Alex took off her flip-flops, pulling up her dress to sit beside me on the wooden plank, splashing her feet in the water like me. The day after we caught Lucas and Stacey on the beach, she showed up at church wearing a dress, make-up, and her hair down. It was her way of showing us that she was growing up too. I told you, she always had to keep up with the boys, reminding me that we were one in the same.
    I glanced up from my drawing to find her with her very own matching notebook, beaming.
    “Whatcha got there?” I asked, cocking my head to the side. An amused expression was evident across my face.
    She shrugged not paying me any mind, turning the cover over to the first page, placing the notebook on her lap.
    “I’m going to draw, too.”
    I perceptively nodded, letting her hold onto her pride, knowing that she was just trying to keep up with me.
    We sat in comfortable silence for a while, just sketching and watching the blue waters.
    Both of us lost in our own thoughts.
    I peered up from my sketch when the sun started to set, catching a glimpse at Half-Pint’s drawing from the corner of my eyes. She must have sensed me staring. She blushed, peeking up at me through her lashes.  
    Before I could think twice about it, I blurted out, “Is that your wedding?”
    “Maybe,” she softly whispered, suddenly appearing tinier than she actually was.
    It didn’t take long to recognize the man in the picture. I could see his dark hair and tall frame. The way she captured the look in his eyes when he stared at her and thought no one was watching.
    Though I still asked, “Who you marryin’?”
    She bit her bottom lip and replied, “Just a boy.”
    “Bo?” I stated as a question.
    She closed her notebook, setting it to the side of her to look down at her feet that were now splashing in the water. Ignoring my question.
    “Half-Pint, why do you do this to yourself?”
    “What do you mean?” she retorted, still focusing solely on her feet.
    “Hurting yourself. Wanting someone you know you can’t have?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Yes you do.”
    That made her glance at me.
    “He kissed me,” she revealed out of nowhere.
    My eyes widened, surprised.
    “Like… really kissed me,” she emphasized, nodding to get her point across like it would change something.
    When in reality, all it did was piss me the fuck off. 
    I didn’t hesitate, viscously spewing, “Before or after he fucked around with Stacey?”
    She gasped, shocked. Hurt was apparent all over her face by my response. Now, I was no better than the other boys. I did the one thing that I had avoided up to that moment.
    I hurt her.
    “They’re making love?” she innocently questioned, her big brown eyes showing more emotion than I’d ever witnessed before. All glossy eyed.
    “There’s a lot more to fucking around than just sex, Half-Pint.”
    “Oh…” she paused for a few seconds. “So, they’re doing the other stuff you’re talking about then?”
    I shook my head, annoyed with I don’t know who. “Never mind.” I closed my notebook and stood, wanting the conversation to be over. She immediately followed my lead.
    “No! Don’t do that. Answer me. Are they doing those things or not, Austin?”
    “Ask him. Ask

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