Page 27

chapter ten

“You’ll know the universe is at odds with you when you turn out like Jason. When birds shit on you and nothing else around you. When ladders collapse, cracks really do break your back, and a thundercloud follows you around for a day (swear on clouds everywhere, this actually happened; the local meteorologist quit after not being able to figure out how or why). Maybe if these things start happening… you’re doing life wrong? Hell you’re doing it all wrong if you’ve got a freaking thundercloud over your head for twenty-four hours, and experts scratch their heads.”

~From Max Emory’s Guide to Dating and Other Important Life Lessons

Jason

It took five seconds for the universe to kick back into gear. It seemed whenever I was around Max — or my sister, for that matter — something happened to my molecular structure.

Every cell in my body shook with terror — in preparation for the other shoe to drop.

Somehow Max and Milo had turned into a curse to my body; I rarely escaped one of them without some kind of bodily harm.

And when they were together?

It was as if my body almost completely shut down right along with my brain. Maybe it was a self-defense mechanism. Maybe they both really were cursed, but I knew it was going to be a long four hours.

And that, at the end of it, I wouldn’t be surprised to end up in the hospital. They knew me by first name there, not because I was a well-known cop, or even because it was a small town.

No, they’d known me by first name after the fifth Max incident. The one where he glued my hand to my penis while I was passed out.

Gorilla Glue is not meant to adhere to skin, especially skin that was used to more… sensitive loving.

My balls tingled.

Shit.

I was going to end up dead one of these days.

It had taken forever to outlive the, “Oh hey, you’re Dickhand!”

The name Max had given me the minute they checked me in.

And since it was Max…

It had stuck.

Right along with my left hand.

I turned down the street and slammed on my brakes as a cat tried to cross the road. The liquid from my morning coffee somehow sloshed out of the cup — even though there was a lid — and went flying into my face.

Cold. Wet. Coffee.

I closed my eyes briefly, grabbed a napkin from my console, and wiped my face, then tossed it into the empty seat next to me.

The coffee spill was just a coincidence.

I pulled into my usual parking spot on the street outside the department and opened my truck door. Just then, a bus honked in my direction. I leapt back onto my seat and watched in horror as my mirror and door were amputated.

The bus driver flipped me off in the rearview mirror.

“Unbelievable!” I roared. My door was gone. MY DOOR!

At least I wasn’t injured.

It could be worse.

This… this was just bad luck mixed with fleeting thoughts of a girl with bouncy curls and the one who’d birthed her.