Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)

Me: U done with college apps?

Oakley: My counselor has been really cool, so yeah. She’s making me apply everywhere.

I had a brief moment of panic. Applying for college wasn’t free. How was she paying for it?

Oakley: STOP freaking out about where I’m getting the money to apply.

I laughed. Brat knew me so well.

Oakley: As much as I hate being a charity case, most admissions programs are waiving the fees, due to my “financial hardship and living in a rural area” reality.

Me: Did u hear my huge sigh of relief all the way in Montana?

Oakley: Yeah. It smelled like beer and farts.

Me: Brat. Later, Twig.

Oakley: Same to you, Coon.

“Must’ve been a fascinating conversation,” Sierra said.

I glanced up and said, “What?”

She pointed at the ground. “Your beer tipped over and you didn’t even notice.”

“It didn’t tip over. I kicked it over because it tasted like shit.”

“Are you a beer snob now, West?”

“When it comes to cheap, warm beer? Yep.”

“Then I won’t offer to get you another.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Couldn’t find anyone who wasn’t a judgmental dickhead?”

“It’s better to stick with the dickhead you know, so I’m back with you.”

“I should be offended by that.”

“And yet…you’re not.” Sierra sipped her beer and a foam mustache clung to her upper lip.

Jesus. I wanted to swipe my tongue over it. Lick and suck and taste her mouth for hours. When our eyes met again I swear to fucking god she was testing my control by just leaving it like that.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“So this Lex guy is a dickhead?”

“No. He’s a friend of Hayden’s I’ve been trying to hook—”

“I do not want to hear about your hookups, Sierra,” I snarled.

She laughed. And kept laughing.

I leaned in and squinted at her. “Are you high?”

“What? I’d have to be high to find something you say funny? Piss off. Getting high is for squares.”

“You are such a dork, McKay. Who even says squares anymore?”

“My dad. His vernacular is da bomb. He’s totally on fleek.”

I laughed. I wanted to grab her and get right in her face and tell her how goddamned much I missed this. This part had always been so easy with her. Didn’t she remember?

“Anyway, growly caveman, if you would’ve let me finish instead of cutting me off, I could’ve told you that Lex has applied for an internship at DDG next semester. I’ve been trying to set up a meeting between him and Marty in personnel for two weeks. Hookup was a bad word choice.” Sierra took another drink and licked her lips. “Not that it matters. Given the intense way you were texting, I figured you were making hookup plans of your own anyway.”

So she wouldn’t come right out and ask who I’d been texting, but she clearly wanted to know. “Sierra. I’m not interested in just a hookup while I’m in Phoenix.”

The way her gorgeous eyes widened and then went soft…please let that mean she read between the lines since I was still feeling my way around this thing with her.

Still lying about it you mean.

“I was texting my sister, Oakley.”

“Oh. How old is she now?”

“Sixteen.” I clicked on the photos icon and scrolled until I found the one I’d taken last month. I held the phone out to her. “During my stint in Wyoming I drove up to Bozeman. I almost didn’t recognize her, it’d been so long since I’d seen her in person.”

“She’s really pretty. She looks nothing like you.” Sierra’s startled gaze met mine. “That came out wrong. I meant—”

“I know what you meant.” I pocketed my phone after she handed it over.

“What’s your brother doing? Crockett, right?”

Speaking of high…our mother had to be smoking a big bowl when she picked our names. “He goes by Rock. He’s fifteen. Plans on joining the marines. For Rock I suspect it’s boot camp or jail.”

Sierra shifted her stance. “Was boot camp as horrible as the movies and TV make it out to be?”

“The physical challenges weren’t as bad as the written tests. I sweated bullets about my instructors finding out I’m dyslexic, since there’s no special dispensation for soldiers with a handicap. I either had to keep up or they’d discharge me. It’s another ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy.” Until they wanted to exploit you as a success story—even when they had nothing to do with your success. My only option was to spend a shit ton of money on tutors.

She blinked at me. “Whoa. Back up. I didn’t know you were dyslexic. You told me you had learning issues but I thought that was when you were younger.”

“The dyslexia was undiagnosed until I started high school, so that’s why it took me so much longer to catch on to reading and learning when I was a kid.”

“We spent weeks going over the boxes of family paperwork for my school project. Why didn’t you tell me?”