Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,49

some more bags of frozen vegetables.

He’d tried to throw in some frozen meals, because the microwave was his best friend, but Jenna had shut that down. “Wow, you really are a dude,” Jenna said, blinking at him.

“Why do you two keep saying that?” he asked. As they began laughing together, he added, “What the hell am I supposed to be?”

That made them laugh harder. He pushed the cart away, muttering under his breath about how he’d never participate in group grocery shopping again.

Out in the parking lot, he looked around, hoping to help Jenna load her groceries, but he didn’t see her car.

So he drove home, Asher talking excitedly in the passenger seat about the steaks Jenna had picked out for the dinner she wouldn’t even be at. And Cal wondered, not for the first time, what the hell he was doing.

BEING THE RESPONSIBLE one again was an odd fit. It was like pulling on a leather coat after it had sat in a closet all summer. The fabric was a little stiff on his skin but after a while, it warmed up, and he remembered how comfortable it all was.

Asher seemed like a decent kid. He had a little bit of a stubborn, defiant streak in him, Cal could tell. Stubbornness ran in the family, so that wasn’t a surprise.

Every time Cal thought about Asher’s father driving drunk with him in the car and his mother not sticking up for the safety of her child, Cal wanted to rage. But he kept a lid on it and instead, sorted the groceries with the kid.

He showed Asher his TV and the video game system he never used. Cal had pitiful games for it, and Asher teased him.

Cal stood out on his back deck, jonesing for a cigarette and scratching at the patch on his arm. He had to figure out what to do with Asher now. He didn’t know how long he’d be here, and Cal didn’t want him sitting around getting bored. Because bored teenagers got into trouble or got themselves hurt, and that wasn’t happening on Cal’s watch.

He heard a knock at the door through the screen he’d left open. When he walked into the house, Asher stood in the kitchen, bouncing on the balls of his feet, nearly vibrating.

Max was still in town, staying with their dad, so he’d been able to come by with Brent.

It’d been a dick move not to tell them about Asher when he invited them over. It was only fair, though; Cal hadn’t gotten a warning, so his brothers wouldn’t either.

Cal clapped Asher on the shoulder as he walked by on his way to the door. “Relax. I’m the scariest one, and you’ve met me already.”

He opened up the door, and Brent rushed in ahead of Max. “If this surprise isn’t a stripper, I’m going to be super-disappointed.”

Max’s eyes went wide. “Stripper?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Cal said. “There’s no stripper.” He held out his arm in the direction of Asher, who stood in the living room with huge eyes. “There’s your brother.”

Brent stopped abruptly, so Max slammed into his back. “What the—”

“Brother?” Brent said hollowly, staring at Asher.

“Brother?” Max echoed, peeking out from behind Brent.

“Brother,” Asher confirmed in a shaky voice. “Well . . . half-brother.”

Cal stood next to Asher. “Turns out Mom had another kid.”

There was no sound. Nothing.

Brent’s eyes had gone a little hard, and Max’s face was blank. Asher began to tremble, and Cal knew he had to be the example. He was the big brother, and the younger guys had always followed his lead. He didn’t always guide them the right way, but he knew he could in this situation.

He slung his arm around Asher’s shoulders and faced Brent and Max. “Quit standing there holding your dicks and say hello, numb-nuts.”

Nobody moved for a good ten seconds. Then Brent jolted out of his stupor and strode toward Asher. He grabbed Asher’s face with both hands and held his gaze. “Fuck me; he’s got Max’s eyes.” He looked over his shoulder. “Look at this—you actually look related to someone now.”

“Fuck you! We look related!” Max shot back, but there was no heat in his words. Brent stepped back, and Max held out his hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Max.”

The kid shook it. “I’m Asher.”

“Asher, huh?” Brent asked. “Why didn’t I get a cool name like that? I always wanted to be, like, Jackson or Gage or something.”

“Will you shut up?” Cal said.

Max ignored both of them. “So how did