Young Love Dies Hard: The Young Brothers, Book 1

  Young Love Dies Hard

  The Young Brothers, Book 1

  Nikki Lane

  In the Moment Publishing

  Copyright © 2020 Nikki Lane

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Young Love Dies Hard

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgement

  About The Author

  Books By This Author

  Young Love Dies Hard

  Young Love Dies Hard

  The Young Brothers, Book 1

  Jacob Young

  Chapter One

  I glanced at the arm draped across my naked chest. It felt like…what was that bird from Brit Lit? An albatross, that’s it. I couldn’t see his face, but his deep breathing told me he was fast asleep. It was fun—and he was decent in bed—but now the fun was over. And there was no way I was sleeping here. I picked up his hand and gently laid it down as I slinked off the twin size mattress. The coils squeaked and I froze, hoping it wasn’t loud enough to wake him. I didn’t have time for pillow talk.

  I kicked away the blue comforter that had fallen on the floor and found my clothes. Where the hell were my shoes? I dodged around the room as the sleeping body shifted around the bed. The sheet was barely covering the lower half of his body. His limp arm reached out among the empty space.

  Stay asleep. Please, please, please.

  He rustled some more and then lifted his head from the pillow.

  “What are you doing?” he asked, his eyes barely opened.

  Damn. Why did this part have to be so awkward? Getting naked in front of someone I barely knew—no problem. Engage in normal conversation afterward—not so much.

  “I have to go.” I pulled my jeans on and slipped on my tank top.

  His biceps bulged as he propped up on his elbows. The years he spent on the football field certainly paid off. We’d been eye-fucking for weeks all around campus. He’d been an itch that I was happy to scratch. A few times.

  “Okay…” He continued to watch me search through the cluttered floor for my shoes. “Can I call you sometime?”

  Oh, screw it. They were just some cheap flip-flops anyway.

  “I don’t think so.”

  His eyebrows lifted a little. “Seriously?” He let out an uneasy chuckle.

  “Sorry, I’m supposed to be somewhere in a few hours.” I made my way to the door and stole one more look his way. “See you around.”

  I closed the door behind me and paused a minute in the dark hallway. Nothing I said ever felt right. Thank you? No. It was fun? Not always the case. It was always easier just to be gone before they even realized I’d left.

  I fished out the car keys still in my pocket and hoped I didn’t run into anyone else wandering the frat house at this hour. My hand slid over the wooden bannister of the staircase, the familiar smoothness reminding me of the barre exercises I’d practiced so much when I was younger. Excellent extension, my teacher used to say.

  My bare feet froze to the step when the doorknob started to jiggle.

  Rich walked in and shut the door behind him before noticing I was there.

  His eyes lit up when he finally noticed me, like I was just the person he wanted to see.

  “Sneaking out, are we?” he said with a smirk.

  “You’re one to talk.” I slid the mood ring I always wore around my finger with my thumb. Black as usual. It hadn’t changed color in years. Not since the day my best friend had moved away, and I had been forced to fend for myself.

  “I was out with my girlfriend, actually.”

  “Good for you,” I mumbled, walking down the last step. I tried to shrug past him to leave, but he stood in my way. I crossed my arms. “Can you let me pass, please?”

  “You’re still doing this?” He was so close I could smell the remnants of his cologne. The same one he used to wear when we’d been together. “At least I know it wasn’t just me.”

  “You know the only bed I sleep in is my own.”

  He smirked and glanced down at the keys he held in his hands. “Isn’t it getting old for you, Maeve? This whole…slutty thing you got going on.”

  “Fuck you.”

  I shoved past him and made a break for the door.

  I didn’t look back. Didn’t want to see the snicker on his face. Because I was doing just that—sneaking away.

  I wouldn’t have time to sleep before I left for the dreaded potluck BBQ. It was a long drive, and I promised Aunt Meg that I would be around. And I’d never hear the end of it from Kasey if I didn’t show up. If I crashed in bed, there was no way I would wake up in time. In the car, I lit a cigarette, put my phone on the charger, and found a decent radio station.

  An hour into the ride, my eyes ached. I pulled the car into a gas station to fill up and grab a few Red Bulls. Shit, I needed a pair of shoes. I told the gas attendant to fill the tank and handed him my card. He grabbed it, glancing first at my chest, and then down at my bare feet.

  Not a chance in hell, buddy.

  I carefully treaded inside the mini mart, my eyes combing the black asphalt for any shards of glass. I made it inside unscathed and prayed I could find something for my feet.

  I said a silent prayer of thanks when I saw the little section dedicated to cheesy T-shirts and thin foam flip-flops. I ripped the tag and slid them on my blackened feet. They were a little big, but it was better than nothing. Three Red bulls and some snacks later, I approached the register to pay. The cashier looked about my age and had a sleeve of tattoos on either arm. His gaze met my cleavage before my eyes. I didn’t mind as much as I did with the guy outside.

  “Anything else?” he asked.

  Was there anything else?

  “Nope,” I said, accentuating the P sound. “This is it.”

  God, I hope this isn’t it.

  He told me my total and slid my stuff into a bag.

  Once I was back on the road, I felt the buzz from the Red Bulls kick in. That’s what I seemed to be living off of these last few months.

  I managed to make it to Aunt Meg’s without falling asleep behind the wheel. I jostled up and down in my car as it negotiated the bumpy dirt driveway. I parked the car next to Uncle Jim’s pickup truck and found a stray hair tie in the glove box to throw my hair in a ponytail. I pinched my cheeks to give them some color and surrendered to the dark circles u
nder my eyes.

  I lit one more cigarette and got of the car to grab my bag in the trunk. Maybe Aunt Meg would still be sleeping. Fat chance. That woman never slept-in a day in her life. Jack, Uncle Jim’s sheepdog, came barreling out of the house in my direction.

  “I can smell that cigarette from here,” Aunt Meg’s voice boomed.

  I scratched behind Jack’s ears as he pounced on me with a wagging tongue. I turned around to face her, my bag slung over one shoulder. “Hey, Aunt Meg.”

  “Don’t think you’re coming in this house with that cancer stick still on your lips.”

  I threw it on the ground and smashed it with my cheap foam shoe.

  “Didn’t think you’d be here this early,” she said as I walked toward her.

  “I told you I would be.” I opened my free arm and gave her a hug. “Besides, Kasey’s been texting me non-stop for the last two days.”

  “I’m glad you decided to come,” she said, patting my back.

  I followed her inside the old farmhouse. It smelled like maple syrup in the kitchen. “Where’s Uncle Jim?”

  “Checking on one of the goats. She’s about to give birth.” She poured a cup of coffee and handed it to me. “Have you eaten at all?”

  “I picked something up on the way.”

  “Your sister’s still asleep. She had another bad attack last night.”

  “Again?” It’d seemed like her asthma had worsened these last few months.

  Her pediatrician kept insisting she’d grow out of it. We weren’t convinced. But when you have subpar state-based health coverage, you’re lucky if they even listen to you long enough to get your health history.

  “Doctor put her on another medication. Hopefully, it’ll help.”

  “How come no one told me about it?” I said.

  Aunt Meg rummaged through the cabinet with all of the prescription medications. Between her, Uncle Jim, and Kasey, they could open up their own pharmacy. I should be thankful that Kasey had health insurance; I had trouble enough affording her out-of-pocket costs.

  “Here,” she said, handing me the bottle. “This is what she’s taking.”

  I read over the label and recognized it as an oral steroid.

  “The copay for prescriptions has gone up,” Aunt Meg said.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

  She gave me a onceover. “You look like you haven’t eaten a decent meal in a month.”

  “What time’s everybody coming over?” I slid into one of the wooden chairs.

  “Around three.” She grabbed some eggs from out of the fridge.

  I’d have to collect some before leaving. The eggs from the grocery store didn’t compare to the ones Aunt Meg and Uncle Jim’s chickens produced. Uncle Jim had handcrafted this special feed that took years to perfect. As a kid, I loved to dunk my toast into the deep yellow yolk.

  “I’ll make you something to eat, and then you should go back to bed for a little while.”

  “I’m fine.” I didn’t want to tell her that I’d gone a lot longer than twenty-four hours without sleep. With enough caffeine, I could run a marathon. “I came early to help you set up.”

  “There’s not much to do. Everyone’s bringing a little something. Tables and chairs are already out.” She eyed me as she cracked two eggs into the hot cast iron pan. They sizzled, and the smell snaked to my nose. “Are you nervous?”

  “About what?”

  “Seeing Jacob again.”

  “Why would that make me nervous?” I ran my fingernail in the small groove in the wooden table.

  “I don’t know.” She reached for a spatula. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen each other.”

  Eight years to be exact. I’d thought about him a lot. Wondered what kind of person he turned out to be. “I’m sure he barely remembers me.”

  “Of course he does. You two were inseparable since the first day you met.”

  “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

  “His mom said he was looking forward to coming back. I’m sure he’s dying to see you.”

  The eggs popped in the pan as Aunt Meg peered over her shoulder to look at me. What was I supposed to say? That I was afraid I wasn’t going to measure up?

  “I’m going to wake lazy up.”

  “Okay. But don’t think you’re getting away without eating breakfast first.”

  I inhaled breakfast, remembering how much I’d missed a homecooked meal. Aunt Meg put another load of laundry into the washing machine, and I scurried up the steps to Kasey’s room.

  I knocked on the door but opened it when no one answered. She lay in the bed, a mess of dark hair covering half of her head. It was hard to believe she just celebrated her tenth birthday. It seemed like yesterday when I was putting her hair in pigtails.

  I jumped up and landed on the bed with a thud.

  “Hey!” I said.

  She groaned and flopped over on her stomach. “Summer vacation’s not over yet.”

  “Time to get up!”

  It took her a minute to realize it was me, but when she did, her eyes widened.

  “You’re here,” she said, sitting up. “It’s about time.”

  I scooted up so that I was lying next to her. “I drove as fast as I could.”

  “What time is it?” She stretched her arms over her head.

  “Time for you to get up. Company will be here soon.”

  “Ugh,” she groaned. “I hope Uncle Will doesn’t show up. If I have to hear about his chronic grout…”

  “You mean gout.” I chuckled.

  “Whatever.”

  It was a favorite pastime of our family. Arguing over whose medical problems were worse.

  “You know you’re looking forward to it,” I said.

  “Not as much as you are.” Her round light blue eyes twinkled. They reminded me so much of our father.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Isn’t your old boyfriend coming today?” The freckles over the bridge of her nose danced when she smiled.

  “He wasn’t an old boyfriend. Just a friend.”

  “I don’t remember him.”

  “Well you wouldn’t. You were just a baby when he moved away.”

  “Aunt Meg showed me the picture of him. Do you think he still looks the same?”

  I got up from the bed and tinkered with some of the things on her dresser. “Of course, not. People change.” An opened music box sat in the corner—a ballerina on pointe, her arms in fifth position.

  “That’s so true. Like Aaron McGregor, Riley’s old boyfriend, when he came back from summer camp.”

  I closed the box and reopened it, but the music didn’t turn on. The ballerina twirled in the middle of the box; her fading face fixated toward the sky. It had been a gift from Jacob for my thirteenth birthday. “What do you mean?”

  Kasey stuck her finger in her throat and made a gagging sound.

  I laughed. “Get up and get ready. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

  * * * *

  As soon as the rain let up, I walked to the barn to find Uncle Jim with Jack trotting beside me. I inhaled the smell of wet grass and ran my hand against the sheets waving in the breeze on the clothesline. As I got closer to the barn, the sweet dewy smell of the damp earth was soon replaced with the smell of goats and chickens. I unlatched the gate and swung the heavy door open.

  “Uncle Jim?” I called.

  The faint bleating of goats resonated toward the cavernous space.

  “In here,” he called back.

  I stepped inside, following the sound of his voice.

  I walked past the empty pens until I found him hunched over a pile of hay.

  “Hey, Uncle Jim.”

  He smiled wide. “Look who it is.” He stood up to give me a hug. “You came just in time. Could use another hand around here. This girl’s gonna’ pop any minute now.”

  I chuckled as he pet the goat’s head. “She looks like she’s about to burst. How many does s
he have in there?”

  “Hard to say, really. One for sure. Maybe two.” The doe wobbled down on her front legs to nestle into the hay. “How’ve you been? It’s been a while since we’ve had you home.” He pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his flush face.

  “I know. I’ve just been busy with school and work.” I followed him out of the stall and watched as he locked the gate.

  “That’s okay. You’re all grown up now. Hard for us old people to understand that. And by old people, I mean your Aunt Meg.”

  I smiled and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

  He ran the handkerchief over his face again.

  “You feeling okay?” I asked.

  “Sure,” he said. “Has your aunt gone into crazy mode yet?”

  “Sort of,” I replied. “She sent me out here to come get you. She doesn’t think it’ll be good for the party if you show up smelling like the animals.”

  He chuckled as we walked. “Are you ready for this BBQ?”

  I shrugged. “Every relative within a five-hundred-mile radius all together in the blazing heat? Sounds like a great time.”

  “Oh, it won’t be that bad…hopefully.”

  I sighed. “I know.”

  Back at the house, Uncle Jim and I did a few more last-minute tasks while Kasey picked wildflowers for the tables. After everything was ready, I snuck away to take a shower and wash the sweat off. I’d spent the last two hours arranging tables and chairs under the tent in the backyard in the disgusting humidity. Not to mention, I could still smell what’s-his-name’s cologne on my skin from our romp last night.

  I left my hair wet, braided it, and threw on the shorts and top I packed. The foam flip-flops were already falling apart, so I’d be barefoot for the rest of the day. Not that I cared. I’d spent plenty of time as a kid running around this place with no shoes on.

  Downstairs, Aunt Meg and Uncle Jim were bickering. I stopped at the top of the steps to eavesdrop. They were talking so low, but the walls were thin in this old house.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d overheard them bickering about money. The farm had been struggling for the last few years, and things were only getting worse. Earlier, when I’d been searching for the scissors, I’d come across a few past due bills tucked away in a drawer.