Free Be with Me by J. Lynn

did?”
    “What?” I asked innocently.
    Cars were pulling out behind us, but his Jeep blocked their path. The look on his face said he so did not care. “You just turned off The Man for . . .” He glanced at the radio, grimacing. “For Godsmack?”
    “Hey. Don’t you talk shit about Godsmack.”
    “I have no problem with them.” A horn blew. He ignored it. “Until it affects Elvis.”
    “I cannot listen to Elvis.”
    His mouth dropped as his brows winged up. “We cannot be friends any longer.”
    I giggled.
    Jase narrowed his eyes as he finally—thank God—put the Jeep into drive. “It’s a good thing you’re cute or I’d drop-kick you out of this car.”
    I laughed outright as I settled back in the seat. “I could say the same thing about you with your questionable tastes.” A wide smile pulled at my lips as he shot me a disgruntled look. “Country music has got to go.”
    “Oh, you don’t know what good music is.” Jase hung a left. “I’m gonna have to educate you.”
    Warmth bubbled up in my chest, and I struggled to ignore it. We went back and forth on the music while he searched for parking. It took a bit of time since he passed up several open spaces farther out. I knew why. He didn’t want me to walk, and while catering to my leg usually made my skin itchy and too tight, I didn’t say anything as he circled the main drag a few times until a spot opened up between Sara Creed and the Den. It was nice of him, courteous even, and I couldn’t let myself think that it meant anything else.
    “How’s Jack?” I asked when he started preaching the gospel of Johnny Cash.
    A certain light filled his eyes, a look of pride, and I went all ooey gooey on the inside. “He’s doing great. Started kindergarten this year. His teacher—Mrs. Higgins—said he’s the smartest kid in class.”
    I smiled as I slid out of my seat. “Are you sure he’s your brother?”
    “What do you mean?” He appeared in front of me and grabbed my bag out of the backseat before I could even move. There was an odd look to his gray eyes. “Of course, he’s my brother.”
    “I was kidding.” I grabbed for my bag, but he slung it over his shoulder. “You know, with him being the smartest kid in class, I wasn’t sure how he could be related to you.”
    The wariness vanished from his gaze and he smiled. “Ha. Jack gets his intelligence, good looks, and charm from me.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    Chuckling deeply, he held my bag in one hand and draped his other arm over my shoulders. The weight was sudden and distracting, causing the nape of my neck to tingle, sending tiny shivers down my arm.
    To Jase, this wasn’t a big deal. Nor did he probably even notice the stares as we walked up the stairs to the Den, passing people who knew him—because everyone knew him. I easily remembered the first time he’d done something like this—the evening he’d arrived without any warning.
    It had been the weekend after the . . . incident with Cam. My brother had holed himself up in the basement, having already drunk himself through the collection of scotch our father had stocked. Jase had apparently been talking to Cam through text and had grown concerned. He’d dropped everything and driven the several hours to see him.
    I’d been dumbstruck when I saw Jase standing in the foyer, talking to Mom and Dad. He was the most handsome boy I’d ever seen—his hair shorter then, but no less wild, and his eyes a steely gray as they’d drifted and landed on where I’d been more or less hiding, peeking around the door to the family room.
    Something had filled his gaze then, and I’d feared that all he saw in that moment was the cause of Cam’s problem. It had been freezing that night, as the evenings were in early December, but the house had suddenly become suffocating and too hot.
    I had hidden again, but this time outside, curled up on one of the wicker chairs on the patio, watching the stars twinkle in and out, wondering how exactly