I'd even blamed him for a while for what happened to Mom. Maybe if she wouldn't have loved him as much as she did, and then been left alone with two kids, juggling two jobs, she might have been fine.

But she hadn't been. She died and left us with my crazy ass yia-yia that made the most amazing baklava... for breakfast.

Dad was alive but he'd become a long lost dream. A long lost dream that withered into smoke and ash right after Mom was buried.

Will was there though. And without Will, who needed me to keep going, I wouldn’t have gotten through those floating, disaster months that ruined any chance of me making grades that were good enough to get scholarships. Scholarships that I should have been shoo-ed into if I’d played up The Arm Situation, but not even that could make up for my crap, quarter-hearted grades.

“The older you get, the more you start to look just like her,” Sonny noted, pulling me out of my thoughts.

Yia-yia and Will had both said the same thing. “Yeah, it's kind of creepy.” Mom and I had the same black hair. We had the same normal nose, the same small mouth and slightly fuller bottom lip. Our build was the same too from what I could remember. Mom had been long and lean, and while I wasn’t as long as she was, at five-seven I wasn’t exactly short either.

I was my mother’s daughter. The looks, the impulsiveness, the temper, almost everything. My brother, like Sonny, was a mirror image of our dad, where I was our mom’s doppelganger.

Sonny slid out from beneath my car, wiping his hands on the rag I’d thrown back at him. He reached over and patted the top of my running shoe, his eyes warm. “It’s a good thing. I take more after my mom, too.” He closed his eyes and let out a long breath. “Thank fucking God.”

That was a blatant lie. He looked just like our dad but I wasn't about to ruin the mood by stating what seemed so obvious to me.

“You do have those girlish features,” I told him with a grin, wanting to pull away from the talk of my mom.

Sonny snickered and sat up. “Stupid.“ With a shake of his head, something behind me caught his attention making his eyes narrow. And because I’m nosey, I turned around to see what he was looking at.

Dex.

Walking onto the lot, his short black hair went in ten different directions. Wrinkled jeans and an equally wrinkled blue t-shirt finished off his obviously bedhead ensemble. But what caught my attention, and what might have also caught Sonny’s, was the blonde woman he was walking beside. A blonde woman in a very wrinkled dress that screamed she wasn't opposed to public fondling. And it wasn't the same woman I'd seen him with two weeks ago.

Dex stopped just a few feet shy of a Hyundai parked in front of the office. It was a magnetic pull that kept me watching him drop a quick kiss on her mouth before slapping her ass as she crossed the distance toward her car and got in.

Pig.

“That motherfucker,” Sonny murmured, shaking his head in a disbelieving fashion.

My eyes went from my brother to my boss, who stood with his back to his lady friend, completely disinterested. Sonny didn’t look mad, but he looked annoyed and that alarmed me. “Please tell me that wasn't your girlfriend."

His light brown eyes met mine, wide with amusement. “Hell no. I don’t even think Becky knows how to spell the word girlfriend, Ris.” Sonny looked past me again. “But that motherfucker’s always talking shit about how he wouldn’t fu—do her because she's been with half the club.”

“Oh.” He didn't strike me as the picky type, but then again, I guess he really wasn't if he couldn't hold his own word.

I looked back over my shoulder to see that the Hyundai was gone and surprise! Dex was walking over in the direction of the open bay we were in. Obviously. It was the only one open. I ignored the weird feeling in my chest I got from seeing him taking those lengthy strides toward us. “Well, you know I don’t know how to kick anyone’s ass but I’d try my best if she was being a cheatin’ ho-bag.”

Sonny threw his head back and snorted. “It’s the thought that counts.”

I grinned at him, extending my legs out in front of me again to kick his shoe.

He chuckled again but this time kept his gaze on Dex’s approaching figure. “Well if it isn’t my favorite hypocrite,” Sonny greeted my boss.

“Fuck off,” Dex snapped from feet away.

"Becky?" Sonny shook his head. "Outta all the pu—" he eyed me, "—women at the bar, you took fucking Becky upstairs?"

I was surprised my boss didn't give him the middle finger, instead he settled for a look that could only be described as withering and absolutely not amused. "I can't remember shit from last night," Dex explained in a voice that somehow managed to be both gruff and scratchy.

An attractive man that drank so much he slept with people he didn't like, and then couldn't remember? Absolutely excellent. My opinion of him was just getting better.

Was it unfair to judge him when the majority of single men did the same thing? Yes. Did I care about being fair? No.

Sonny looked down at me, raising his eyebrows in disbelief. “Sure.”

“I’m fuckin’ serious, man. Buck had me try his home brew to celebrate, and I don’t remember a single goddamn thing after my third one.” Two boot clad feet landed right next to me, and I angled my face upward to take in the long length of Dex’s legs and torso, only to find him looking down at me in return. His expression was tight. “Hi.”

I breathed out a “Morning” back that was buried beneath Sonny’s reply.

"You know better than to drink anything Buck makes. His shit puts moonshine to shame." There was some type of hesitation in my brother's voice that I didn't understand, like something was bothering him. “I forgot to tell you congrats,” Sonny said, completely oblivious to the stare down his friend and I were having. "Me and Ris stayed home last night otherwise I would've met up with you for a drink. Congrats, man."

Dex’s bright blue eyes slid away from my face and out toward my legs, lingering on them so long it made me self-conscious of how small my shorts were.

“Thanks,” he replied, detaching his gaze from my direction and back toward Son. “Feels good.”

“Well, you deserve it, fucker,” Sonny noted.

When had he started speaking so much? I hadn't heard him string together so many words in three days total.

And what were they talking about?

Dex shrugged, glancing back down. His mouth was set in a fine line, something in his expression telling me that there was something he wanted to say but nothing came out. Just like nothing had come out of his mouth the night before after I'd told him he hurt my feelings in the parking lot.

Which was right before I called him a princess.

A-w-k-w-a-r-d.

Finally, he looked over at Sonny instead. “I’ll let you get back to what you two were doin’. See you at the shop later,” he spoke to me, glancing down at my legs one last time before nodding a goodbye at Sonny and making his way back to the building he’d come out from.

The moment he was out of earshot I asked, “What was he celebrating?” I didn’t care, I swear, but I was nosey.

“He just paid off the loan Luther gave him to set up Pins.”

I focused on big, bad Dex paying off the money he’d been loaned to set up his tattoo shop. “Huh.” I’d spent my entire adult life trying to balance just having a lease, medical bills, cell phone, and random things to pay for; I couldn’t imagine the responsibility of having a business to worry about on top of that when I could barely afford my minute sized expenses.

"Is it always that awkward between you two?" my brother asked.

Crap, was it that obvious? "Always." I made a face. “I probably made it worse when I  called him a princess last night.”