Beard Necessities (Winston Brothers, #7)

by Penny Reid

But admitting wrong and working every day of your life to make up for it takes bravery, persistence, and a rare strength of character.

Every time we were alone, we would either fight or kiss; I regretted both the fighting and the kissing for so long. I didn’t want to fight anymore.

Any website encouraging people to consume misleading headlines over facts seemed counterproductive to the survival of the human species. It was like folks had become willing, voracious consumers of propaganda.

I’d never wanted to be a source of weakness for Scarlet. I’d wanted to be a source of strength.

He was new, sent from party headquarters, and everything was always a problem. My contact at the party had called Karl savvy. But on my team, people who see nothing but problems while offering no solutions are called fired.

“Which story do you prefer?” I asked. Shelly always had an unexpected take on things. “I like the duality of both, to be honest.” “What do you mean?” Beau lifted his chin, his gaze fastened to her like she was the most fascinating and wonderful person in the world. But then, he always looked at her like this. “Just that, two people, witnessing or experiencing the same event, can have two entirely different interpretations of the truth. To one person, the knot was a heart, and removing it devastated the stone such that it succumbed to the artist’s vision. To another, the knot was an obstruction to the stone, preventing it from being what or who it was meant to be.”

“Listen. I’ve been where you are. And I’m telling you, if you don’t have trust, you have nothing.”

‘People only hold grudges when they can’t forgive themselves.’” I blinked against the sting behind my eyes and nose, glancing away and shaking my head. How many times had my mother said this to me and my siblings when we would fight? I’d lost count. “Billy. You’re my brother.” I exhaled another laugh. “Am I?” “You’ve always been my brother,” he continued patiently, undeterred. “Now, sometimes I’ve been a shitty brother. And sometimes, yeah, you haven’t made it easy for me to make amends. But I honestly wouldn’t’ve had it any other way.” My jaw working, I glanced at him. “Why?” “Because I knew the day I had your respect again, well, I would’ve earned it. I’d deserve it.” A rising wave of sadness and regret finally snuffed out the last of the anger. “I shouldn’t have withheld it in the first place, Jet.” “No. No, you definitely should have,” he said quietly, his gaze sober. “Your intolerance for my bullshit was a great motivator.” I kept shaking my head. “I was too harsh.” “Maybe, sometimes.” He shrugged. “But your unwillingness to compromise your principles, your expectations for all of us, and your example—to reach our potential, to be better, to be good—gave us all something to strive for, to live up to. Especially me.”

Oh, my heart. These boys.

Between people who love each other, there is no debt, only surplus.

Mere survival was no safer than living for hopes and dreams.