The Good Luck Sister Read online

  She reached across Dylan for the pack of crackers she had on her nightstand. Her arm brushed his and she felt a tingle make its way through her body. “Here,” she said, dipping the cracker first into the peanut butter and then the jelly, and holding it out to him.

  He opened his eyes and then smiled. “PB and J for dinner.”

  “Is there anything better?”

  “No.” He sat up gingerly enough that she worried he’d been hurt elsewhere as well, but when he saw the look on her face, his eyes went dark. “Don’t,” he said and took the cracker, shoving the whole thing in his mouth.

  “But—”

  “Not talking about it, Tee.”

  They dipped crackers into the peanut butter and jelly until they were both full. Actually, she got full right away, but she didn’t want him to stop until he was full as well, so she totally overate.

  And then had to open the top button on her jeans.

  After, Dylan pulled her down with him to the bed again and closed his eyes. She thought that she couldn’t think of another place she’d rather be. She wanted them to grow up and still do this, still be like this. She’d be an artist and he’d be . . . “Dylan?” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  “What do you want to be when you get older?”

  “Alive.”

  Her heart pinched. “I mean as a job.”

  His hand squeezed hers. “It doesn’t matter,” he said a little dully.

  She knew what that meant. He didn’t see himself making it out, and that made her so sad that she couldn’t speak for a long moment.

  As if he knew he’d brought her down, he stirred himself and changed the subject. “Did you finish your biology homework?”

  “Shh,” she said. “I’m sleeping.”

  “Tee.”

  “You can help me tomorrow,” she murmured softly, letting herself relax against him, purposely letting him think she was exhausted.

  She felt when the tension finally left him and he fell asleep. Only then did she allow her eyes to close. She was comfortable and she should’ve been thrilled because she never slept as well as she did when he was in her bed. But worry for him kept her up long after he’d drifted off . . .

  On Wednesday, Dylan got to day two of graphic arts early, this time waiting for Tilly in the parking lot. After yesterday, he’d realized that surprising her in front of other people had been a tactical error. At the time, he’d thought seeing her in a public place might be easier for her. No, that was a lie. He’d been protecting himself.

  He’d been wrong.

  For a long time, he’d been aware that someday his mistakes would catch up with him and he’d pay. There’d been so many he also knew it was going to hurt.

  Pain had been a way of life for him growing up, so there’d been no reason it should change now, but this pain was different because it was pain he’d caused in someone else, in Tilly of all people, the only person who’d ever been there for him through thick and thin.

  There’d been a hell of a lot of thin in those days.

  And as Tilly pulled into the lot, parked, and got out of her car and caught sight of him, he could see the pain he’d caused her etched in every line of her tense body. Her big baby blue eyes, and all the emotions in them, sliced him open.

  He should’ve left well enough alone. And maybe those words would be on his gravestone, but for now he had to see this through.

  Shaking her head, she gathered her things and started toward the campus. He reached out to stop her and the little dog in her purse went apeshit.

  “Arf, arf, arf, ARF!”

  “Leo,” Tilly admonished. “Stop.”

  “Arf, arf, arf, ARF!”

  And since this was accompanied by a show of teeth, Dylan pulled his hand back, surprised because dogs loved him. “Tilly—”

  “No,” she said, and then as if she’d been holding it all in, the words burst from her like a tidal wave as she whirled back to face him. “I mean you just up and vanished on me after graduation! You said you were going off to think, which implied you’d be back. You didn’t come back, Dylan, you went into the military, which is the opposite of coming back!”

  He never took his dark gaze off hers. “I know.”

  She shook her head. “You were my best friend and the love of my life, and you never even looked back. You’re such an asshole.”

  “I know,” he repeated. “And I didn’t mean to throw you by taking your class. I just . . .”

  “What?”

  “Wanted to see you.”

  She shook her head, like she didn’t believe him, not that he could blame her. “Drop the class,” she said. “We have nothing more to discuss.”

  He knew that was the smart thing to do. He shouldn’t have come to see her, but he was back in town now for the foreseeable future and hadn’t wanted her to hear about it from anyone but him. When he’d learned she was teaching art at the community college, he’d been so proud. Art had always been her dream and she was making it come true for herself. But no amount of internet searching could tell him the one thing he needed to know more than anything else. Was she happy? So he’d had to come see her in her element. “How about business?” he said. “I hear you’re a pretty fantastic graphic artist. I’m starting up a helicopter touring company with two buddies. Wildstone Air Tours. We need a logo.”

  She turned away.

  “I’m paying,” he said.

  She froze and then slowly turned back to him. And just as it’d been yesterday at the first sight of her, it was like being punched in the gut.

  In high school, she’d been skinny, favored all black clothing, and had an attitude to match.

  She was no longer skin and bones, having filled out in all the right places. There wasn’t an ounce of black on her anywhere, but her attitude was still there and made him want to smile.

  “Are you thinking about laughing at me?” she asked in disbelief.

  “I wouldn’t dare. Are you interested in the work?”

  “I’m angry, not stupid,” she said. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Ball’s in your court.”

  She nodded and . . . didn’t move away.

  Ridiculously eager to make the moment last, he took a step closer, keeping one eye on the dog. “Vicious guard dog,” he said. “All what, four pounds of him?”

  “Six pounds.”

  Dylan eyed him. “If you say so.” He looked into Tilly’s eyes. “It’s good to see you.”

  “Is it?”

  “Yes. Very.”

  She shook her head and turned away. “I’m going now. I’d say don’t call me, but that’d be a waste of breath since you won’t call anyway.”

  He deserved that and a whole lot more.

  Which didn’t explain the very rusty-feeling smile on his face.

  That afternoon, Dylan stood in the center of the hangar in the small airport just outside of Wildstone, staring at the new big sign that read: Wildstone Air Tours. Just looking at it and the two helicopters in front of him had an unaccustomed feeling settling in his chest. Tentative excitement. Tentative, because things like hope and joy had been rare commodities in his life.

  “We did it, man,” Penn said, coming up to his side and clapping him on the back. “From the suckage of boot camp to the suckage of Afghanistan to the suckage of South America, we pulled ourselves out of the ditches to become our own bosses, just like we always wanted.”

  “Yeah.” Dylan shook his head. “Hard to believe.”

  “No, what’s hard to believe is that our lives are finally going to be ours again. We might actually get some semblance of . . . normal.”

  Dylan had to laugh. He’d grown up with a drunk of a father who de-stressed by beating on his family. Penn didn’t know his dad and his mom had taken off on him when he’d been young. “What do either of us know about being normal?”

  “Good point,” Penn said with a shrug. “But it’s going to be fun to try, right?” He grinned. “Know what I�€