Until Him (Inevitable, #1)

by Cora Rose

I wonder if Theo is impressed. The women I’m with usually are, but what about this guy? What does he think when he looks at me? I glance up and see him standing across the small room, his eyes on me, the pencil tapping against his lips. Fuck, he’s unnerving. Why does he keep staring at me? I don’t think he’s checking me out, either. I think he’s probably measuring my skin for lampshades. Maybe he’ll cook up my ass and eat it with a side of broccolini. “Ready when you are,” I tell him, gesturing to the space next to me.

At three a.m., I trudged into the kitchen to look for a cucumber I know we had—a cucumber that looked to be about the same size as Theo’s dick—but Finn had eaten it. Who eats a whole fucking cucumber in one day? Finn, that’s who. But it’s probably a good thing he did; I was going to do awful things to it. The grocery man would see the guilt on my face and know when I went to buy veggies next time. They’d ban me from the produce department, fearful of what I might do to a head of lettuce.

I still can’t believe he’s in this car with me. Part of me expects him to roll right out of the door and onto the highway. He’d be like D.B. Cooper, but without the parachute. And the money. I don’t have that much on me. I reach over and lock the doors, just to prevent any mishaps or sudden urges he may have. I’ve never had someone run away from me before and I’m not looking to start now. “You locking me in? Do you spend your weekends kidnapping people?” Theo asks and I snort. “Puhleeze. If I was kidnapping you, you’d be in my trunk. Tied up.” He coughs a little and eyes me. “You’re a strange guy, Logan.”

I toss the empty cups in the trash and then stand at the trailhead as Theo approaches with Landon and Finn. Movement catches my eye and I see a little squirrel chilling by the trash can. “Hey there, little dude,” I mutter, and it scowls at me. Well, shit. I thought squirrels were supposed to be friendly. “Don’t need to be so rude,” I mutter, and I swear to fucking God that he slashes his tiny hand right across his throat. Is he threatening me?

I swallow roughly and feel my eyes begin to sting again. Goddammit, here I go again. I’m turning into a fountain; kids are going to start making wishes and throwing coins at me.

“I just feel so guilty,” I blurt. “So much guilt, Landon. It’s overwhelming, so I ignore it. I think we’re good at that…ignoring the things that feel too big.” My brother’s eyes grow watery, and he bobs his head. “We are, aren’t we? I blame dad. And the family curse.” I just nod, because he’s right. My grandma died from a coconut falling on her head while vacationing in the Maldives, my dad’s marijuana plants all caught fire three years ago, and my brother lost his leg because of a suicidal deer. Shit. I could go on and on.