Page 56 of From That Moment

I didn’t know what to do to protect my brother.

“I need to get better at ducking,” I said, trying to laugh it off. I didn’t know what else to do or say. Macon studied my face for a long moment before giving me a tight nod.

“Sorry. You just startled me. You want a beer?” he asked, and I looked down at my watch, noting that it was after two. I nodded.

“A beer sounds delicious.”

I followed Macon into the house, stepping out of the way so he could close the garage door behind us.

“Did I interrupt something?” I asked.

“No, just reorganizing the garage.”

Considering that Macon had bowed out of going with Arden, I had hoped it had been for a good reason, but I guess not wanting to be around crowds made sense. I knew that Nate had been working this morning and hadn’t been able to make it, but Macon hadn’t come up with an excuse. I wanted to know what the hell was wrong with my baby brother.

I just didn’t think this was the right time to ask. He would come to us if he needed us.

I only hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

“So, what can I help you with?” Macon asked. I kind of wished I hadn’t come. Because I didn’t want to bother Macon with my petty problems, not when I knew that he had his own healing to do. Maybe him worrying about my issues would help him get over what the fuck was going on in his own mind.

Or maybe I just needed to talk with someone.

“I kissed Paris,” I blurted.

Macon choked on his beer, spewing liquid everywhere, and I wiped my face and took a step back.

“Thanks for that.”

“Fuck. Warn me next time.”

I set down my beer, laughing as I shook my head. I stripped off my shirt, wiped my face, and threw the bundled material at him.

“Asshole,” I said with a laugh.

“I don’t know, I’ve never actually done a spit take like that before.”

I met Macon’s gaze, and we both burst out laughing. I followed him back to the guest room where I kept a few shirts and odds and ends.

“I think I have an old AC/DC shirt of yours.”

“Wouldn’t that be Cross’s?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. We’re all about the same size. Hopefully, it still fits.”

He searched through his drawers and handed over the black T-shirt with the familiar logo. I went to wash my face before I slid the tee over my head, still feeling like I smelled like beer.

“So. You and Paris?” Macon asked from the doorway, folding his arms over his chest.

“I think so.”

“What’s there to think about? She’s hot, and you’re okay.”

“Thanks. I truly appreciate it.”

“No problem. Seriously, what’s there to think about?”

“How about the fact that she’s friends with Hazel, and now part of our new group.”