Locke (Rosewood High #0.5) - Tracy Lorraine Page 0,4

our body weight in Mom’s chili.

I glance around at my options. Mom and Dad are on their usual couch and Levi seems to have taken control of the love seat I usually curl up in.

My lips purse in anger and I storm over.

“Get out of my seat, asswipe.”

“Um…” He moves slightly as if he’s actually going to do something I say, and I start to wonder if Hell has frozen over. But before his ass leaves the cushion, he looks up at me and laughs. “No. Sit over there.” He nods his head over my shoulder toward the couch Emerson is currently sitting on alone.

“No. He’s your friend. You sit with him.” My hands land on my hips as I wait.

“This is my seat. It was mine before I went to college and now I’m back, it’s mine again. So suck it the fuck up.”

“Levi,” Mom chastises.

“You’re serious?”

“Deadly. Now sit your ass down; the movie I chose is about to start.”

“I fucking hate you,” I mutter, quietly enough that our parents don’t hear.

“Aw, I’m so glad to be spending time with you too, sis.”

Sulking, I fall down on the other end of the couch that Emerson has made himself at home on, keeping as much space between us as possible. It’s not all that easy, seeing as it’s the smaller of the two couches and he’s fucking huge.

I sit ramrod straight as the movie starts. It’s barely begun and we’re trailing some figure through a darkened room. The music is eerie and I’m instantly on edge.

Despite knowing that it’s about to scare the living shit out of me, I can’t tear my eyes away from the screen.

“ARGH, my god,” I scream when something jumps out of the shadows and launches themselves at the person holding the camera.

My brother barks out a laugh as I lift my feet up onto the couch, pulling a cushion onto my lap to hug as if it might protect me.

“You’re a fucking pussy.”

“Levi, language.”

It’s only been a few hours and already Levi looks about ready to head back to college. He ignores our parents and turns his attention back to the TV.

“It scared the crap out of me too,” comes quietly from beside me.

“You don’t need to try to make me feel better.”

“I’m not.”

Suddenly the movie has stopped, and Levi is pushing from my seat. “I need a beer. Please, tell me you’ve got beer.”

“Of course,” Dad says like it’s the most ridiculous question in the world.

“Locke?”

“Please.”

Levi’s at the door before I clear my throat.

“What?” he asks, reluctantly turning back to me.

“I’ll have one too please.”

“You can’t, you’re too young.”

“I’m eighteen. You’re only nineteen,” I point out just to piss him off.

“Right. As in, older than you.”

“Just get her one,” Dad orders, much to my satisfaction.

“You still sure you want to stay here?” Mom asks Emerson.

He chuckles. “Yeah. It might be fun.”

I scoff, successfully causing his eyes to turn to me.

“What?” I bark, spinning to look at him. His eyes drop from mine in favor of my chest. I’m only wearing a tank with inbuilt support, so as his stare holds and my nipples begin to pebble under his attention it’s instantly obvious.

“Emerson,” I whisper. “My eyes are up here.”

“Huh. Yeah, I know. You’re looking really good these days, Lys.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re actually hitting on me while Levi’s in the kitchen? Jesus.”

“What? No. I was just pointing out that being a senior looks good on you.”

“Whatever,” I say, turning back toward the TV that I don’t really want to watch. But his stare is doing things to me. Butterflies are erupting in my belly faster than I can control and like hell do I want him to know that his words are affecting me in any way.

4

Emerson

The movie was shit. It was meant to be scary, but it fell a little short of the mark; well for me at least. It was another story entirely for Alyssa, who jumped at every loud noise, let alone anything that was meant to be even a little terrifying.

I found myself watching her more than I did the movie. Her pink tank hugged her full tits and when she hugged the cushion to her stomach, it pushed them up in the most incredible way. All I could think about was dropping my lips to them and seeing if she tasted as sweet as I always imagined she might.

When she got to her fourth beer that she’d managed to sneak in after her parents cut her