Read Online Unacceptable by Kristen Hope Mazzola - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kristen Hope Mazzola
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as Abel shook my shoulder. “Zone out there for a minute, babe?”
Ugh. Hearing my stepbrother call me babe was weird, but not even an hour before he’d been my beautiful stranger that I was falling hard and fast for.
This is going to take some getting used to.
At the end of the day, he was mine and I was his, even though it was wrong. I barely knew him; he was my boss, not to mention my freaking stepbrother. It just felt too right.
I mumbled, “Yeah. Just remembering.”
“Good stuff?”
That’s when I realized I was smiling, still looking out the window to Rave, who looked extremely distraught.
“He loved me.”
I had finally remembered how much he had meant to me and I him. We really did have a bond, and that made it that much more confusing.
“Why didn’t he fight for me?”
“I think Rave is the only one that will be able to answer that one.”
I slumped down in my seat. “Can you take me home?”
“Of course, as long as by home, you mean back to my place so you can get some pants on and finally get the answers you’ve been looking for.”
“Thanks.” I leaned over and kissed Abel’s stubble covered cheek.
Abel dialed Holt. “Hey man, sorry to wake you.”
I felt terrible that Holt had to keep cleaning up my messes.
“I need you to come with me to pick up my bike in a minute. I’m driving Crickett back to the house in her car. Long story. Get dressed. Be home in a minute.”
Chapter 8.
After getting back to Abel’s house, putting clothes on, and pacing around Abel’s room nervously for about thirty minutes trying to talk myself out of my next move, I went down to the kitchen where Abel and Rave were sitting at the dining room table.
Abel shoved up from the table when he saw me making my way into the room. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it for a bit. I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.” He squeezed my shoulder before heading up the stairs.
Words escaped me as I took the seat across the table from my father. I crossed my arms; my heart was guarded and I was completely prepared to keep those high ass walls in place.
He cleared his throat. “Do you have questions for me?”
I shrugged. I had a million, but I had no idea where to start. I felt all of my walls growing higher with reinforced steel being added.
He shifted in his seat, went and grabbed two beers from the fridge, opened them, and set one down in front of me with a koozie on it already.
I smirked a little. “That’s the only way to really drink a beer.”
He took a sip. “Ah, yup. Nice and cold with a koozie on it. You don’t want cold hands or warm beer.”
I laughed to myself, thumbing the tab on the top of the can. “I say that too.”
A little bit of the tension melted away as we sat in silence for a few minutes.
Finally, Rave’s gruff voice broke the quiet. “How’d you know to find me here?”
I looked into his eyes for the first time since I’d realized it was really him. “I got a letter from you when I was ten. The return address said Vilas.”
“You got one of my letters?” He perked up a little, shifting an old shoebox in front of him.
“One of? I only got one ever. Didn’t feel like writing to your kid was too important did you?”
The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes pulled down as concern spread across his face. “I wrote you hundreds of letters over the years. Here, let me show you.”
He walked the large box over to my end of the table and took the seat next to mine. “They always got returned to me, but I kept trying. I’m glad one got through.”
I opened the shoebox to see letter after letter unopened, some looking only weeks old, all with my mother’s chicken scratch on it: Wrong address. Return to sender.
My heart hurt.
“How could she?” My voice shook as tears stung my eyes.
Rave sat quietly as I tore through the box, getting down to what looked like files of legal papers dating up until my sixteenth birthday.
“You fought for me?”
His head
Ugh. Hearing my stepbrother call me babe was weird, but not even an hour before he’d been my beautiful stranger that I was falling hard and fast for.
This is going to take some getting used to.
At the end of the day, he was mine and I was his, even though it was wrong. I barely knew him; he was my boss, not to mention my freaking stepbrother. It just felt too right.
I mumbled, “Yeah. Just remembering.”
“Good stuff?”
That’s when I realized I was smiling, still looking out the window to Rave, who looked extremely distraught.
“He loved me.”
I had finally remembered how much he had meant to me and I him. We really did have a bond, and that made it that much more confusing.
“Why didn’t he fight for me?”
“I think Rave is the only one that will be able to answer that one.”
I slumped down in my seat. “Can you take me home?”
“Of course, as long as by home, you mean back to my place so you can get some pants on and finally get the answers you’ve been looking for.”
“Thanks.” I leaned over and kissed Abel’s stubble covered cheek.
Abel dialed Holt. “Hey man, sorry to wake you.”
I felt terrible that Holt had to keep cleaning up my messes.
“I need you to come with me to pick up my bike in a minute. I’m driving Crickett back to the house in her car. Long story. Get dressed. Be home in a minute.”
Chapter 8.
After getting back to Abel’s house, putting clothes on, and pacing around Abel’s room nervously for about thirty minutes trying to talk myself out of my next move, I went down to the kitchen where Abel and Rave were sitting at the dining room table.
Abel shoved up from the table when he saw me making my way into the room. “Well, I’ll leave you two to it for a bit. I’ll be right upstairs if you need me.” He squeezed my shoulder before heading up the stairs.
Words escaped me as I took the seat across the table from my father. I crossed my arms; my heart was guarded and I was completely prepared to keep those high ass walls in place.
He cleared his throat. “Do you have questions for me?”
I shrugged. I had a million, but I had no idea where to start. I felt all of my walls growing higher with reinforced steel being added.
He shifted in his seat, went and grabbed two beers from the fridge, opened them, and set one down in front of me with a koozie on it already.
I smirked a little. “That’s the only way to really drink a beer.”
He took a sip. “Ah, yup. Nice and cold with a koozie on it. You don’t want cold hands or warm beer.”
I laughed to myself, thumbing the tab on the top of the can. “I say that too.”
A little bit of the tension melted away as we sat in silence for a few minutes.
Finally, Rave’s gruff voice broke the quiet. “How’d you know to find me here?”
I looked into his eyes for the first time since I’d realized it was really him. “I got a letter from you when I was ten. The return address said Vilas.”
“You got one of my letters?” He perked up a little, shifting an old shoebox in front of him.
“One of? I only got one ever. Didn’t feel like writing to your kid was too important did you?”
The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes pulled down as concern spread across his face. “I wrote you hundreds of letters over the years. Here, let me show you.”
He walked the large box over to my end of the table and took the seat next to mine. “They always got returned to me, but I kept trying. I’m glad one got through.”
I opened the shoebox to see letter after letter unopened, some looking only weeks old, all with my mother’s chicken scratch on it: Wrong address. Return to sender.
My heart hurt.
“How could she?” My voice shook as tears stung my eyes.
Rave sat quietly as I tore through the box, getting down to what looked like files of legal papers dating up until my sixteenth birthday.
“You fought for me?”
His head
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