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worries me.  It's not like her to obsess over some boy.  And to blow off cross-country?  All she talks about is Clayton Reed.  When have you ever known her to talk about a guy like this?  I mean, I'd be happy for her if there wasn't something else going, you know?  The way Clay acted today was really weird and then Maggie jumping all over us to defend his crappy attitude.  I didn't like it.  Not a bit,” Rachel let out in a rush.
     
         Without allowing myself time to think any more about it, I reached out and took her hand.  Our fingers weaved together effortlessly.  Her palm, pressed against mine perfectly.  “We'll take care of her.  We always take care of each other.  And no one will ever mess with my girls while I'm around,” I said with confidence.  Because I fucking meant it. 
     
         Rachel smiled and my heart sputtered a bit.  When did I become such a damn pansy?  “I guess I'd better go find her.  You know, so I can grovel.” I grinned, even though I was absolutely sure groveling was in my immediate future. 
     
         Rachel squeezed my hand before dropping it.  I couldn't help but be disappointed.  She threw her trash onto her tray and stood up.  I followed her to my feet.  “Yeah, you'd best use some of my lip gloss, because your mouth will be chaffed from all the butt kissing you're about to do.”  Rachel smirked. 
     
         There was that feisty new Rachel again.  Where the hell had she been hiding the last seventeen years?  I watched the way Rachel's ass moved in her tight jeans and decided it was time to go get started on my butt kissing.  Because if I stayed here any longer, watching the girl in front of me, I would be kissing something else entirely.
     
     

Chapter Six   
    ~Daniel~
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
         “Daniel.  Stephen and I are going away for the weekend.  I've left money on the counter.”  My mom poked her head into my room and I had to curb the wise cracks that were on the tip of my tongue. 
     
         I was getting used to weekends alone.  Not that I minded.  I'd rather not be subjected to the PDA monster that came courtesy of my once upon a time fantastic mother and her skeevy boyfriend.  It was freaking gross the way they pawed at each other, not caring if I was in the room or not.
     
         As if on cue, Stephen appeared behind Mom, his hands slithering around her like an anaconda, his hands going in places that made me want to rip his arms off.  I hated that guy.  I hated my mom for being with that guy.  I hated the fact that I had a front row seat as they touched and did things that a kid should NOT see his parent doing.
     
         My mom giggled like a girl half her age and I wanted to hurl.  “Stephen,” she whispered as he kissed the side of her neck.  Both seemed suddenly aware that they were in fact standing in the doorway to my room.  Stephen stopped trying to molest the woman who had given me life and she stopped wiggling against him as though they were going to go at it at any moment.
     
         “Hi son,” Stephen said awkwardly, giving me a cheesy smile that just asked to be knocked off of his face by my more than ready fist.  I wasn't his goddamned son.  I had a dad.  A great one.  You know, the guy who had caught this jackass dick deep in his wife.  Yep, I was going to throw up.  Maybe I could projectile vomit, Exorcist style, all over the assholes in front of me.
     
         I grit my teeth, crunching them together almost painfully.  “Hey,” I said shortly.  I should tell Stephen to never call me son again.  To remind him and my bitch of a mother of the guy they had both screwed over.  The one who had supported his family for years without complaint.  The man who did not deserve to lose his wife and his son to a flaming ass face that wore purple shirts and too much hair product. 
     
         But I had played the petulant teenager card one too many times