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

He cocked his head to the side. “You mean…sleep with you? In the same bed?”

I nodded and waved him over. He hesitated a few seconds, the look of shock fading from his face, before closing the door. He set his glasses on the nightstand and crawled into the bed with me. We each lay on our side, facing one another, our arms intertwined.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything for Christmas,” I whispered. “I’m new at this whole relationship thing. I’m not really sure how it’s supposed to go.”

“This right here, being with you, is all I need.” He kissed my forehead. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

His eyes flickered over my face. “For coming here with me.” He waited a few seconds before continuing. “For trying.”

I sighed. “It’s pretty nice to see.”

“What is?”

“A family like yours. Parents like your mom and dad. Even your brother. I always wanted a brother.” Thinking about it now, I was relieved my parents never reproduced again.

“You had me,” Jacob said.

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not the same thing.”

“Why?” he asked with an incredulous look.

“Because,” I cried. “I did not think of you as a brother…like at all.”

A small smile crept over his lips. “What did you think of me as?”

I cast my eyes down toward the pillow. “I don’t know.”

“A friend?”

My best friend. That’s how it started, anyway. But it became more than that. Maybe it was time to say it out loud.

“More than a friend.” I swallowed to relieve my dry throat.

“I’m afraid you need to be a bit more specific.”

“Oh, come on, Jacob,” I said. The smirk on his face was making it hard not to smile. A fluttering stirred in my stomach. “I had the biggest crush on you.”

His eyebrows shot up and his mouth parted, and I dug my face into the pillow.

“That’s not surprising,” he said with a little too much confidence.

I looked up and scoffed. “You’re unbelievable.”

His face beamed. “You’re beautiful.” He pulled me in closer, tighter against his body.

It always amazed me how right it felt. Surprised me when I didn’t want to grab my keys and run out of the room the first chance I got.

No more words were spoken. But the gate holding back my anxieties was bulging, pulsing, ready to blow.

I closed my eyes and feigned sleep until Jacob’s rhythmic breathing told me it was safe to open my eyes again.

I studied his face, appreciating the beauty it held. The softness of his eyes. The gentleness behind the hard, black frames of his glasses. I wasn’t looking at a little boy. Not even the teenager I used to have a crush on. I was looking at a man.

The man I was falling in love with.

Chapter Nineteen

It was the fifth time he’d grab my ass when I walked by. I thought about telling him off, but it wouldn’t be worth it. Sal was perched at the bar, and I was already on his shit list. When Jacob and I had returned from Florida, I wasn’t ready to get back to work. I did the unthinkable and called out. It didn’t matter that I’d never call out before. It didn’t sit well with Sal.

So, I just turned and smiled, offered a private dance. I tried not to think how pathetic it was that this guy chose to spend New Year’s Eve night here. Tried not to slap that ridiculous pair of sunglasses off his face. I gritted my teeth and danced, collected my money, and moved on to the next.

I was dying to check the time. But there wasn’t a clock anywhere in this Godforsaken place. There was no way I could sneak in the back room and check my phone.

I wondered what Jacob was doing. I’d left him on the couch, watching DVDs. He wasn’t too happy to see me go. It wasn’t something he’d said out loud. But the frown on his face was enough to tell me. And it didn’t help that I’d vehemently argued against him coming to see me at work. I had to push him back on the couch and run out the door. I couldn’t think of any more excuses of why it was better for him to sit at home alone on New Year’s Eve instead of hang with me at the bar at work.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sal’s voice broke me out of my daze. “Stop holding the bar up and get ready to get on stage.”

I hadn’t noticed before but I was clutching the bar so tight my knuckles were white. I rolled my eyes.

“Don’t start that with me, kid. You know I can’t stand that passive aggressive shit.”

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” I poured myself a shot and slung it back. I was breaking one of my rules, but I didn’t give a shit. Rules didn’t matter anymore.

I shuffled to the dressing room and changed my outfit. I snuck a quick peek at my phone. An hour and a half until the New Year, and instead of being home wrapped in Jacob’s arms, I would be wrapped around a metal pole.

The night only got better—and when I said better I meant a whole lot shittier—when I saw Rich breeze through the door. He was alone, and his eyes were combing the room. Was it a little self-centered to think he was looking for me? The uneasy feeling in my stomach turned into a dreadful suspicion.

“Gone on, honey.”

I turned around to see who nudged me. Rita stood just inches away.

“Huh?”

“You’re up,” she said, nodding toward the stage.

She looked back at me like I’d just sprouted a second head. “You feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” I replied. Lies, all lies.

I double checked the knot on each side of my bottoms and then made my way to the stage at a snail’s pace. The shot I’d taken earlier felt like it was going to hurl out of my mouth. I didn’t want to be here. I wanted to go home. Be with Jacob.

A new