Walking Disaster

go.”
    Abby’s roommate Kara stomped around the room, getting her shower supplies. “I’m always very clean when you’re around, Abby,” she said, slamming the door behind
her.
    I looked up at Abby. “I know I get crazy when it comes to you, but God knows I’m tryin’, Pidge. I don’t wanna screw this up.”
    “Then don’t,” she said simply.
    “This is hard for me, ya know. I feel like any second you’re going to figure out what a piece of shit I am and leave me. When you were dancing last night, I saw a dozen different
guys watching you. You go to the bar, and I see you thank that guy for your drink. Then that douche bag on the dance floor grabs you.”
    “You don’t see me throwing punches every time a girl talks to you. I can’t stay locked up in the apartment all the time. You’re going to have to get a handle on your
temper.”
    “I will,” I said, nodding. “I’ve never wanted a girlfriend before, Pigeon. I’m not used to feeling this way about someone . . . about
anyone
. If
you’ll be patient with me, I swear I’ll get it figured out.”
    “Let’s get something straight; you’re not a piece of shit, you’re amazing. It doesn’t matter who buys me drinks or who asks me to dance or who flirts with me.
I’m going home with you. You’ve asked me to trust you, and you don’t seem to trust me.”
    I frowned. “That’s not true.”
    “If you think I’m going to leave you for the next guy that comes along, then you don’t have much faith in me.”
    I tightened my grip. “I’m not good enough for you, Pidge. That doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, I’m just bracing for the inevitable.”
    “Don’t say that. When we’re alone, you’re perfect. We’re perfect. But then you let everyone else ruin it. I don’t expect a 180, but you have to pick your
battles. You can’t come out swinging every time someone looks at me.”
    I nodded, knowing she was right. “I’ll do anything you want. Just . . . tell me you love me.” I was fully aware of how ridiculous I sounded, but it just didn’t matter
anymore.
    “You know I do.”
    “I need to hear you say it.”
    “I love you,” she said. She touched her lips to mine, and then pulled a few inches away. “Now quit being such a baby.”
    Once she kissed me, my heart slowed, and every muscle in my body relaxed. How much I needed her terrified me. I couldn’t imagine love was like this for everyone, or men would be walking
around like lunatics the second they were old enough to notice girls.
    Maybe it was just me. Maybe it was just me and her. Maybe together we were this volatile entity that would either implode or meld together. Either way, it seemed the moment I met her, my life
had been turned upside down. And I didn’t want it any other way.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Lucky Thirteen
    H ALF EXCITED, HALF NERVOUS AS HELL, I WALKED INTO my father’s home, my fingers intertwined with Abby’s. Smoke
from my father’s cigar and my brothers’ cigarettes drifted from the game room, mixing with the faint, musky smell of carpet older than I was.
    Even though Abby was initially pissed that she didn’t have much notice before meeting my family, she looked more at ease than I felt. Bringing home a girlfriend was not a habit of the
Maddox men, and any prediction of their reaction was unreliable at best.
    Trenton came into view first. “Holy Christ! It’s the asshat!”
    Any hope of my brothers even pretending not to be anything but feral was a waste of time. I loved them anyway, and knowing Abby, she would, too.
    “Hey, hey . . . watch the language around the young lady,” Dad said, nodding to Abby.
    “Pidge, this is my dad, Jim Maddox. Dad, this is Pigeon.”
    “Pigeon?” Jim asked, an amused expression on his face.
    “Abby,” she said, shaking his hand.
    I pointed to my brothers, all of them nodding when I said their name. “Trenton, Taylor, Tyler, and Thomas.”
    Abby seemed a bit overwhelmed. I couldn’t blame her; I’d never really talked about my family, and five boys would be mind-boggling to anybody. In fact, five Maddoxes were downright
frightening to most.
    Growing up, the neighborhood kids learned early not to mess with one of us, and only once did someone make the mistake of taking on all of us. We were broken, but came together as a solid
fortress if necessary. That was clear even to those we didn’t mean to intimidate.
    “Does Abby have a last name?” Dad asked.
    “Abernathy,” she said, nodding