Page 80
Story: North
Amaia and Zeke had survived, had kept each other alive. They had a special bond because of it. Of course, Amaia didn’tseem to realize that my hard-headed brother was in love with her.
Hell, I didn’t think Zeke realized he was in love with her. Or if he did, he wasn’t admitting it. He didn’t let people get too close. He didn’t date, he didn’t fuck.
And he sure as hell hadn’t made a move on Amaia.
Me, I liked to have fun. I flipped the steaks. Life was dangerous and could be too damn short. My uncle Zeke, dad’s twin, had been killed by the Gizzida. I knew it still hurt my dad and that he missed his brother to this day.
Living life to the fullest was my way to honor the uncle I’d never had the chance to meet. No one was promised tomorrow. I liked to wring everything I could from life. My motto was to have fun, enjoy the ladies, hang with my friends, eat good steak.
“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” I said.
Zeke glared at me and didn’t say a word.
I held up the tongs. “Fine. Forget I said anything. Watch the steaks, I’m going to get a drink.”
Leaving Zeke in charge, I headed for the coolers. They were packed with ice and bottles of Hemi’s beer. I grabbed one, opened it, and took a long sip.
“Now, there’s a handsome man,” a female voice drawled.
Smiling, I turned. “I could show you a good time, darlin’.”
My mom smiled and shook her head. “You have too much charm and too much sass in you.”
I hugged her tightly. She smelled like mom—flowers with an undertone of antiseptic. It was the scent of my childhood. “I get it from you.”
“You sure do. You definitely don’t get it from your father.”
Beside her, my dad made a low sound.
Gabe Jackson was six-and-a-half feet tall and still packed with muscle. He was part African American, which had given Zeke and I our brown skin, although dad was several shadesdarker. He kept his head shaved, which made him look even more badass. Zeke and I had also inherited his height and his gray eyes.
“Hi, Dad.” I threw an arm out and we slapped each other on the back.
“Need help with the grill?” he asked. “Your Mom made me carry in three tons of salad.”
Mom rolled her eyes.
“You could check on Zeke,” I said. “He’s in a mood tonight.”
Dad stroked mom’s hair, and for such a small gesture, there was so much love loaded in it. My dad always looked at Mom like she was something incredible and he couldn’t quite believe she was in his life. He headed off to help Zeke.
My mom gazed across the party with a concerned look for her second son.
“You know how Zeke gets. He’ll snap out of it.”
She nodded. “I know. He’s so much like his father. Stews on everything.” She focused on me. “How are you?”
I smiled. “Living my best life.” Then over her shoulder, I saw Colbie walk in. I blinked. She was wearing a small, green dress that hugged her slim form. It tied up with a bow behind her neck, which just itched to be pulled free. She looked…hot.
Then I spotted the man beside her. She was holding some douchebag’s hand.
My gaze narrowed. I didn’t know him, but he looked like a stiff wind would blow him over and wore a pair of heavy-framed glasses. His jeans had neat creases in them. I could almost see the word Geek glowing in bright letters above him.
“Marc?”
“Huh?” I blinked and realized that Mom was looking at me.
She studied me hard. “Are you all right?”
Hell, I didn’t think Zeke realized he was in love with her. Or if he did, he wasn’t admitting it. He didn’t let people get too close. He didn’t date, he didn’t fuck.
And he sure as hell hadn’t made a move on Amaia.
Me, I liked to have fun. I flipped the steaks. Life was dangerous and could be too damn short. My uncle Zeke, dad’s twin, had been killed by the Gizzida. I knew it still hurt my dad and that he missed his brother to this day.
Living life to the fullest was my way to honor the uncle I’d never had the chance to meet. No one was promised tomorrow. I liked to wring everything I could from life. My motto was to have fun, enjoy the ladies, hang with my friends, eat good steak.
“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” I said.
Zeke glared at me and didn’t say a word.
I held up the tongs. “Fine. Forget I said anything. Watch the steaks, I’m going to get a drink.”
Leaving Zeke in charge, I headed for the coolers. They were packed with ice and bottles of Hemi’s beer. I grabbed one, opened it, and took a long sip.
“Now, there’s a handsome man,” a female voice drawled.
Smiling, I turned. “I could show you a good time, darlin’.”
My mom smiled and shook her head. “You have too much charm and too much sass in you.”
I hugged her tightly. She smelled like mom—flowers with an undertone of antiseptic. It was the scent of my childhood. “I get it from you.”
“You sure do. You definitely don’t get it from your father.”
Beside her, my dad made a low sound.
Gabe Jackson was six-and-a-half feet tall and still packed with muscle. He was part African American, which had given Zeke and I our brown skin, although dad was several shadesdarker. He kept his head shaved, which made him look even more badass. Zeke and I had also inherited his height and his gray eyes.
“Hi, Dad.” I threw an arm out and we slapped each other on the back.
“Need help with the grill?” he asked. “Your Mom made me carry in three tons of salad.”
Mom rolled her eyes.
“You could check on Zeke,” I said. “He’s in a mood tonight.”
Dad stroked mom’s hair, and for such a small gesture, there was so much love loaded in it. My dad always looked at Mom like she was something incredible and he couldn’t quite believe she was in his life. He headed off to help Zeke.
My mom gazed across the party with a concerned look for her second son.
“You know how Zeke gets. He’ll snap out of it.”
She nodded. “I know. He’s so much like his father. Stews on everything.” She focused on me. “How are you?”
I smiled. “Living my best life.” Then over her shoulder, I saw Colbie walk in. I blinked. She was wearing a small, green dress that hugged her slim form. It tied up with a bow behind her neck, which just itched to be pulled free. She looked…hot.
Then I spotted the man beside her. She was holding some douchebag’s hand.
My gaze narrowed. I didn’t know him, but he looked like a stiff wind would blow him over and wore a pair of heavy-framed glasses. His jeans had neat creases in them. I could almost see the word Geek glowing in bright letters above him.
“Marc?”
“Huh?” I blinked and realized that Mom was looking at me.
She studied me hard. “Are you all right?”
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