Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1 by Nikki Lane (best memoirs of all time txt) 📕

“Yeah, I know. And I really appreciate it. But what happens when you move out? I can’t depend on that help forever.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you trying to say you want me to move?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I just meant…” That one day, I’ll lose you to someone else. “Let’s talk about this later.” I opened the door and tried to make my escape.

“At least let me drive you,” Jacob said.

My stomach sank to my knees. “No.” Maybe that came out a little too forcefully.

“Why?”

“Because you have to study. Finals are in a couple weeks.” I walked out of the door before he had a chance to argue.

He sensed something was up—he was trusting, not an idiot. Deep down, I knew that he would always respect my privacy. It was an old habit of his. But the look on his face before I walked out the door tore a small whole in my heart. I couldn’t get it out of my head the whole car ride to work.

I parked the car and trotted into the club, still feeling like I’d been run over. I headed straight for the dressing room, grateful it was a Monday. Monday’s were usually slow. I wasn’t really in the mood to wrap myself around a hard metal pole. A few of the girls gave me funny looks as I shed my jacket and my clothes to change.

Sarah came up from behind me and plopped her bag on the vanity. “How the fuck do I end up here on Monday nights?”

She rummaged through her bag, not bothering to look at me while she talked about her shitty roommate and how messy she always left their dorm.

I continued to listen as she switched gears and rambled on about her hot economics professor as I started on my makeup. Finally, she looked at herself in the mirror and caught my reflection.

She froze, her finger hovering just above her eyebrow. “What the hell happened to you?”

I shook my head gently. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

She turned around to face me and leaned her body against the vanity. “You are definitely not fine. It looks like you fell down a flight of steps.”

There was an excuse I could use. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

I liked Sarah, and I felt we had this unspoken rule about being completely non-judgmental with each other. But I didn’t want to start airing my personal business here. Especially since I noticed everyone perk their ears to listen in. These girls fed off each other’s drama—who was sleeping with who, who’d been earning extra money giving blow jobs in the parking lot, who was too coked up to show up for their shift. They weren’t all like that…but it was hard to tell them apart. After a while, we all start looking the same.

I grabbed the foundation and tried to cover up the bruising on my arms. I winced when I reached a little too far.

“Here,” she said with a sympathetic tone. “Let me help you.”

I resigned to her assistance and handed her the bottle.

In the brightly lit mirror, I could see Sal storm through the dressing room. A few girls snatched up their clothes to cover themselves up since he didn’t knock. He never did.

He shouted something to the bartender, and she went scurrying out to the floor. I lowered my eyes and shook my head at the way he talked. I caught his attention, and he focused his glare on me.

The downside of working slow Monday nights—Sal was usually in a bad mood.

“You.” He pointed one of his hairy arms and stomped toward me. When he was mad, he always talked like he had a meatball sub stuck in this throat. “You’re twenty minutes late. And what the fuck happened to you?” He waved over my body.

“I’m fine,” I said. “I—”

“I can’t have you going out on the floor looking like your boyfriend lost his temper.”

I pinched a piece of my thigh to dull the tear in my chest.

“Get your shit and go the fuck home.”

I jolted around to face him, causing Sarah to step back.

“What for? I told you I was fine.” I couldn’t go home empty-handed. Rent was due and my fridge was empty. Jacob’s paycheck helped, but it couldn’t compare to what I made here. “You can’t send me home.”

“For fuck’s sake, Sal. She got into a car accident.” Sarah continued to dabble foundation onto my bruises. “When I’m done, you won’t be able to see anything.”

He stared me down, but I kept my eyes on one of the bulbs surrounding the mirror. It outshone all the faces staring at me.

“Fine,” he grumbled with a condescending wave. “Just make sure that shit stays on. And come to work on time.” He stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

“Thanks,” I muttered to Sarah.

“No problem,” she said with a small smile.

The others girls went back to their own conversations.

“Look,” Sarah said. “I know it’s none of my business, but…if you ever need anything—”

“Thanks but I’m okay, really. It’s not what you think.”

“Just tell me it wasn’t Jacob.”

I scrunched my face. “No,” I cried. “Are you kidding?” If weren’t for him, I’d have probably ended up on the six o’clock news.

She dabbed a little more makeup while I picked at the cuticles around my nails. “I didn’t think so. Not when he looks at you the way he does.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her in the mirror.

“Can’t you see it?” She leaned her free hand on the vanity and looked at me through the mirror. “He’s, like, totally enamored with you.”

I focused my eyes back on my hands. “Get out of here…”

She tossed the bottle of foundation back in my makeup bag. “I’m serious, Maeve. I could sense it the first time I saw you two at the bookstore. I see the way you two walk around campus…he holds your books for you. It’s